Serendipity
by DonecAdAxtremum
Summary: Serendipity (noun) - the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. Lily wasn't looking for anything special in her seventh year of Hogwarts. But thats the funny thing about life, once fate has decided something for you, you can't do anything to stop it. Lily and James wouldn't have been able to stay away from each other even if they wanted too.
1. September 1st

_**Serendipity - A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

DISCLAIMER - I do not own the Harry Potter series, the books, films, (yes 'films', I am british.) characters, locations, concepts, yarda yarda yarda. We get the picture.

_**Oh wow I'm nervous. Ok for starters, hey there, my wonderful reader. That's you. I want to say thank you for choosing to read my story. And even if you bail halfway through this chapter because of how shitty this thing is, thanks. **_

_**This is just a Jily story I've been wanting to write after reading Commentarius, which I recommend by the way, and I hope you guys think its alright. It's my first Harry Potter Fic and please don't judge me on my old Hunger Games ones, I was young. I have the first couple of chapters written and I'm hoping for a long multichapter fic with each chapter uploaded every few weeks? Or every month?**_

_**Also, in this story, you see what Lily is thinking and doing in her position, so the more she thinks about things, the more you will know and understand. **_

_**I do apologies for the hideously long authors note.**_

_Lily's POV_

_**September 1st**_

Rain.

Always rain.

Bloody England.

It's supposed to still be summer.

I am considerably moist and unhappy. If Tuney could maybe stop glaring at me through the windshield of her car and actually help me pull this decidedly heavy and hard-to-control trolly across the wet Tarmac of the kings cross station car park I'd be in a better mood. But no. You can't get too close to the 'freak'. You'll catch germs.

Nothing like good old sisterly love, huh?

My elder sister, Petunia, didn't even want to drive me here. And to be quite honest I wasn't to thrilled about the arrangement either. It's pretty much the only thing we'd agreed on the entire year. When mum told us about the situation last night, it didn't even take a second for me and my darling sister to kick up a fuss and complain until mum pulled the 'headache' card and wouldn't say any more on the matter.

So this morning Tuney didn't get up until 10 meaning I was at wits end chewing my fingernails off about missing the god damned train. I swear, the human giraffe just wants to make my life a misery. She does a good job of it too.

And after a painfully awkward, hour, car journey we made it to the station with 15 minutes to spare. 15 minutes until the train leaves and I can finally get back to Hogwarts... Get back to school.

So basically if it wasn't for my sister, the weather, this broken trolley (which I'm sure is missing a wheel), and my general bitterness over my episode this morning that I might have had, screaming at Tuney to get a bloody move on and get her butt into the car before I curse her into next week, I'd be in a good mood.

Maybe.

Probably not.

But i cant to anything to stop the rain pouring down on my back, dripping down my face, and wetting my hair, making it turn an ugly shade of dark red (As if the normal ginger-red colour of my hair isn't unappealing enough). But still i manage to pull the trolley shakily round to the boot of Tuneys car before my hands slip over the slick metal surface before I wrench the boot open and start to try and lug my huge trunk out.

Oh Merlin, how much did I have to pack! Jeez!

My arms about to give. I can feel it. Totally. They're shaking. I'm not going to be able to hold this up. Seriously, I just can't. Any help? Are my arms made of jelly or something because this is seriously too heavy. Maybe I shouldn't have packed the extra telescope. Oh dear my arms are going to fall off. Any second now. Yep.

Three.

Two.

Oh. Never mind I've done it.

As i let my trunk fall onto the trolley to a crash, I hear a soft hoot behind me. Archimedes. I turn, a sigh slipping through my lips. My poor owl is getting dripped on. "Oh, I'm sorry Archie!" I reach inside the car boot and gently pull out my little owls cage. "Maybe if Tuney didn't have such a problem with you, you could have ridden in the front." I shoot a glare at my sister through the back window, still in the drivers seat of the car, still glaring right back at me. She may be my sister but that won't stop my hacking off one of her feet in her sleep some day of another.

I quickly slam the boot closed, keeping unblinking eye-contact with my sister through the mirror like a staring contest.

And so, as soon as the boot clicks shut, without a wave, or smile, mouthed words or even a ruddy blink, the car speeds off. Spraying my with mud as it goes.

Well that's just perfect.

As if I don't look bad enough already in my drenched brown coat, standing in the middle of a mildly busy car park with an owl and a huge trunk.

Uuugh.

1st of September. Seven years of travelling to Kings Cross station to board to the train to Hogwarts. I can remember the very first time I was here. I was eleven, still doubting that all this Hogwarts stuff was real. I thought I was dreaming. And now seven years on here I stand for my very last year. I didn't even know that magic existed until I got onto the platform and saw everything for myself seven years ago. It was amazing. Even as I remember it, all the people like me. Kids, boys and girls, my age and older. Here with their parents. Their magical parents.

That was were I was different.

I had panicked the first time I'd come here, I was told how to get on to platform 9 and 3/4 but that my muggle parents couldn't follow. I had stood there alone amongst all the other Wizarding family's on the platform by the barrier I had just run through, clutching my luggage and small owl cage for dear life as I stood stock still behind the crowd, terrified. As soon as I could, i had scurried onto the train and found the first empty compartment before locking myself-

Oh bugger the trolley!

My trolley is rolling away!

Someone stop my trolley!

After starting to run after it, owl in hand, slipping on the ground and a good three meters behind my broken trolley as It rolls away I realised that I am not going to be able to reach it. Me and sport don't exactly have a good history. If you tell me to run I will just walk away. But it seems my luggage cart is the best PE teacher I've ever had.

Why won't someone stop my trolley! There's loads of people just walking past staring at me like I'm a mental institution escapee, just at least stop the god damned trolley!

Archimedes hoots frustratedly in his cage as it swings beside me as I frantically run with one hand outstretched, reaching for the slippery handle of the wheeled contraption in front of me. I lose my footing on the slippery floor beneath me at least 4 times, lurching forwards only to save myself from falling flat on my face before rejoining my pursuit. I must be quite a spectacle. Oh that's fine just point and laugh. Seriously. No biggy.

Some people are really considerate you know. All those good trolley-stoppers out there. I'd like to think of myself as a trolley-stopper, I'd help out a person like myself, in need of a good trolley-stopping.

BUT OBVIOUSLY THATS JUST ME.

I don't know how long I've been running for but this car park has to have an end! I'm already out of breath, my owl is considerably ruffled and I'm wet to my skin.

So all round, a pretty successful morning.

It's then that Merlin decides to sprinkle a little goodness into this little car park as my trolley stops. A good old trolley-stopper has found it in their heart to stick out a foot and bring my trolley to halt. Unfortunately, every silver cloud has a crappy grey lining, and I didn't realise it had stopped, therefore kept on running forwards and ended up crashing into the now stationary luggage cart and flipping right over the handlebar onto my trunk with a painful thud.

Rather graceful really.

9 out of 10

"Ah, bugger." I breathe. Well that was painful. And extremely embarrassing. In a crowded car park, Surrounded by people, I just rolled over the handlebar of my escaping trolley and landed sprawled on my backside on my own trunk. Yippee.

So the way i see it, i seem to have a solid three options here on how to deal with this whole trolley situation. Option 1 - Get up quickly and laugh it off awkwardly and run before everyone around me has a chance to stare to much. Option 2 - Roll off and land on the ground, scream and demand medical attention. Option 3 - Stay exactly where I am. Don't move. Pretend to be dead.

Well option one, though still excruciatingly embarrassing, seems to be only option with the least possibility of medical needs. I mean, I'm always up for a good old trip down to the hospital, but I do have a train to catch, so it seems option 1 really is the only one.

Just grit your teeth and get outta there.

But before I could even think about pushing up off my trunk to stand and wisp away, I feel strong hands gripping my each of my arms. I groan softly at my soreness in my... well everywhere while the arms gently lift me up onto a sitting position on my trunk. It seems my trolley-stopper has stayed to do me yet another kindness. See. A little good doesn't hurt. But they could at least be a little gentler, I am an invalid you know. I just wish I could just get out of here though, away from anyone who may have witnessed my less than elegant tumble, including my saviour. I can feel the people around me staring at me, laughing under their-

Holy hell.

Oh sweet Merlin almighty.

My trolley-stopper is James Potter.

The guy how helped me up from my sprawled position is James Potter.

The boy now crouched in front of me, his face inches from mine, is James bloody Potter.

You've got to be kidding me.

James Potter is crouching in front of me, staring at me with his soft hazel eyes. His wet hair is an inch away from my face, his sodden jeans and a large coat, also wet, close enough to reach out and touch if I so wished to. He is knelt steadily in front of me, back straight, hands still on my shoulders. Um, okay then.

At the sight of the boy with messy black hair kneeling in front of me makes me instantly cringe and jump backwards, naturally, we don't have the best relationship do we. With his face this close to mine the most probable thing to happen to me next would be him bashing his head against mine just for the hell of it, maybe I'd get a concussion, that's just the way he thinks, he hates me.

However, what with the great judge of distance I possess, that jump sent me backwards to the other side of my trunk, making me topple over backwards and hit the floor.

Or at least I would have if stupid Potter hadnt reached out and grabbed me before I had a chance to fall.

He pulls me back, steady on my trunk. What is he playing at? Stopping my cart? Helping me? Is something going on? The Potter I know should be taunting me about my gymnastic skills and how he didn't know a trolley was suitable apparatus. He should be teasing me and I should be snapping at him. So what the hell is going on?

Maybe it's a bit of a delayed reaction for him. I mean, It's been a long summer. The heat must have just gone to his head or something. Frazzled his brain cells over the past six weeks. Of maybe he's just forgotten about me. It's not as of he actually cares what do so why should he think of me?

I study his face, searching for clues as to what he's actually thinking. He's smirking at me, obviously amused at my little stunt, but there are... There are traces of... Is that concern? In his eyes. His brow is creased. Oh sure. Because he cares that I may or may not have just broken my butt knuckle, only I care about that. Maybe he just grew wrinkles on his forehead over summer or something, maybe they're naturally there, not just when he's worried or concerned. Potter doesnt even know what concern is. My eyes stray to his already messy mop of hair which is made even worse by the rain, if that's possible, never once have I seen James Potters hair neat and/or tidy, it's wet and sticking up in all directions due to his habit of constantly messing it up. I notice lots of droplets of water running down his face that he doesn't bother to brush away and can't help but think he must be cold.

At least I wasn't the only one getting rained on. Hm.

We must have been in this position for at least 14 seconds before he suddenly starts grinning at me and runs a hand through his hair. "Alright, Evans?"

My nose turns up at his reactions. The grin. The hair. The words in general. It all emanates 'cocky bastard'. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.

"Potter." I acknowledge curtly, with a nod of my head before stepping cautiously up and off my trunk and brushing past him while he watches me go back to the handlebar of my trolley. It would have been quite a superior action, my pushing past him to get up, alas my luck and clumsiness would never allow that. I managed to over estimate my standing up power and ended up to far forwards, therefore I fell straight into Potters awaiting arms.

Well then.

You see, I'm not exactly a normal person. Yes my red hair prohibits normality because it makes me stick out in a crowd like a hell of a sore thumb, but sometimes I really think I need medical help. I'm not just the appearance of abnormal, with the naturally Christmassy colour scheme of my eyes and hair, but I think I may be mentally unstable too.

I mean, what kind of person, having just fallen into someone's arms, has the first instinct to smell them?

Yep. Smell them.

Because the first thing that registered in my mind was that James potter smelt good. Like... Body spray but also like freshly cut grass. And then underneath everything was the faint smell of bonfire smoke.

Yes it is rather pleasant.

Woah wait! I'm standing here wrap in James Potters arms. JAMES POTTERS ARMS. He could probably think of dozens of way to kill me right now! Or maim me, or just embarrass me until I kill myself. I should not be trusting James Potter to hold me like this. I've seen him pull far too many pranks and hex far too many innocent first years to allow this. I should be fearing for my life!

Well, that could be a bit of an exaggeration.

But still I shouldn't let him steady me like this. But I do.

I look up into his face, now only centimetres from mine. He's grinning down at me with those eyes that just scream, "alright Evans?" Ugh. Those too words make me want to just cut him up into small pieces and hide him in my ceiling.

I quickly shake my head to myself and shove Potter away from me before slipping over to the handlebars of my trolley, without looking at him again.

"So that's it then?" He smirks. Ugh. "No thank you for your saviour?"

I snort and look up at him. "My saviour? You stopped my trolly from rolling away. Do you want a gold star?" Shhhh he doesn't need to know that I called him just that in my mind not two minutes ago.

He grins and takes a casual step towards me. This is when the teasing will start. Why am I even still hear, bothering to listen to the great prat?

"Looked like you were struggling with it." He retorts.

I blush and look down. Stupid technically correct Potter. Why won't he stop looking at me like that! With those expectant eyes, cocky smile but trace of actually kindness and concern that makes it hard to be cross with him like I normally am. It's easier when he's just being a bastard and I can just tell him off. I don't like him being kind. It means I'm not aloud to be cross with him.

I pause before muttering out a quiet, "Thanks."

"And no thank you kiss?"

I look up at the strange boy and raise my eyebrows at him. Where's the annoying taunting? Where's the name calling and bullishness? He wants me to kiss him? Oh, please. "Seriously Potter?"

In reply he leans towards me and turns his head to the side before raising a hand and tapping on his cheek with his index finger, cheekily. And I can't help but laugh and shake my head.

Woah wait whats happening here. Is this... Friendly banter? Are we having a conversation that doesn't consist of me telling him off? Whats gotten into this boy?

Then all the smirk completely drops from his face. "But seriously, Evans, you ok? You took quite a crash." He says softly. Taking another step towards me and turning to lean against my trolley, causing it to creak and rock a bit.

I hesitate, looking him over. "I'm fine." I say curtly. Are his eyes _concerned _again? Seriously? James Potter wouldn't care if a first year was getting attacked by vampires! (Well maybe that's an exaggeration again, but whatever.) He doesn't care that I flew over my trolley! He shouldn't anyway. I swear normally he'd laugh, point and laugh at me as groan in pain. But no. There's only a tiny trace of humour in his features but I can't work out if that's just how his face naturally is or of he's still making fun of me.

He stares at me, not quite believing that I'm actually fine. Whats it to him if I'm ok? Why does he care if I'm fine or not anyway?

"Because you literally just flew over your trolley! I'm not heartless Evans, you could have broken your neck."

Huh? Whats he talking about?

"Wait what?"

He raises his eyebrows at me. "You asked me why I care?"

What?! Did I actually say that out loud? Oh Merlin. I really should start filtering my words. How knows what could start coming out my mouth. I can't believe I actually asked him that. He may hate me, but as soon as he makes an effort to be nice I snap at him and question his motives.

But... Why is he being so nice to me? It's not like him to. For the whole of second to fourth year he'd been a big bully, he hated me because I was the only one who wasn't afraid of telling his off. Fifth year I'd stopped bothering with him and just kept away. To be honest I really haven't spoken to this boy properly in about a year.

But why all of a sudden is he trying to put everything behind us? Whats he up to? I'm half expecting the rest of his gang to jump out and pelt me with unknown substances. That sounds like Potter. Why is he helping me? Being nice? And honestly too, I can see in his face that he actually cares. Whether that's genuine of not i don't know but that's still doesn't answer my questions as to why he's changed so suddenly.

"Oh... Right. Yeah." I mumble, looking down at my fingers playing with my wet jacket as my mind runs away as fast as my luggage cart. Why am I even still standing here? Out in the rain. I could be inside with my mates or even on the train by now. But instead I choose to spend my time with James Potter in the rain. It's not like our conversation is even mildly simulating, I just want to find out what he's up to.

"Um, you kind of dropped your owl."

I look up to see James holding up Archie's cage. He's staring at me, well glaring. If owls can glare that is, he's definitely glaring at me. Oops. Ah well, give the stupid bird a few treats and he'll be right as rain again. But that doesn't stop him taking a nip at my fingers as I take the cage from Potter.

"Er thanks." I murmur and place the cage in front of me on the trolley. It sounds like he's growling, but I can't really blame him, He's soaking and looks rather like he's been bashed around some. ... My bad.

"She seems happy." Potter says, filling the awkward silence, nodding to my bird.

I scowl at him. "_He _is fine. Mind your own animals. And if you don't mind terribly, there is five minutes until the Hogwarts express leaves and I don't feel like missing it." I snap before giving my trolley and sharp yank and starting off in the direction of the entrance to Kings Cross, away from James potter. Thank god.

Who cares if for five minutes he actually decided to be a decent person. I'm sure as soon as he sees his mates he'll snap right back into a bullying toe rag. And I don't want to be there when he does. Maybe I won't find out what suddenly brought him to being nice for a while, but it won't last.

But only after about five seconds after I started walking away with my rickety trolley in the wet air, I feel the rain stop hitting my head. Woah, has it stopped? I look up hopefully, only to find a large black umbrella above me.

Oh dear.

So it seems Potter isn't going to let me go so easy, huh?

"What are you doing?" I ask, stopping to stare at the boy next to me, smiling and holding an umbrella above our heads.

He stops too. And raises his eyebrows again, something that seems to be another habit. "It's raining and no offence but you're looking rather dishevelled and moist."

I stare at him for another moment, narrowed eyes and pursed lips. "I don't need you're help." I snap, but in all honestly, its quite nice how the rain has stopped its relentless drumming on my head, has stopped dripping down my skin, chilling me to the bone.

He smirks at me, disbelievingly. "You quite sure about that?"

I huff at him and push my trolley forwards again. I hear him laugh behind me.

"Great weather we're having, isn't it?" He says, smiling at me. Seriously? We're going to talk about the weather?

"Smashing." I sigh, watching the many people rush about under the downpour.

"Good old England."

"Always so reliable." I agree.

He laughs. "Where are your family?" He asks after a pause, still looking down at me.

I don't know what made me do it, but suddenly I was explaining my entire morning to James Potter. As if he cares. I tell him about me and my sister and being late. How I didn't want her to drive me in the first place and the awkward journey and then finish with her driving off without a goodbye. Why the hell am I telling him this?! My brain has some answering to do.

His brow creases. Hm. "That's a nice sister you got." He mutters.

"Oh yes." I smile flatly. "She's a keeper."

He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair. Again. "So you're parents didnt want to see you off?"

"Nah." I say. "But my mum gets 'headaches'" I laugh softly and shake my head. "I already said goodbye. Tuneys just glad to see me go." I look around and notice that the Potters aren't around with their son. I always thought that the Potters were a very close knit family, they're one of the old wizarding, pure blood families, so where are they? Maybe the didnt come along with their son... or maybe theyre inside. They're not muggles so they can get onto the platform to watch the train go, my parents wouldn't want to miss that for anything if they could get through the barrier. "Where are your parents?" I ask, my curiosity surfacing.

He looks down at me yet again and smiles at me, something twinkling in his eye. But not a mischievous glint as I was expecting. I can't quite work out what it is.

"They're inside." He replys. Oh right. Of course. "I told them to go ahead."

"Oh." I manage and look to the entrance to the station, only ten paces away now. I really don't understand myself. Why am I talking to Potter? Out in the rain? Well I guess I wouldn't be if he'd just leave me be, but I could have just walked along side him silently as he tried to make conversation, but instead I'm talking to him about my family. Like he's a good friend. I don't understand him, is he playing something or just trying to change? Is he maybe taking my advice to stop being such a prat all the time. I just can't work it out. Work _him _out.

We walk through the big doors of the station and I get a familiar sense of nostalgia, even if im walking through the, with James potter, this is the last time I will ever be walking through these doors on September first to go to Hogwarts for the year after all. I'm quite a soppy person really. I get a kick out of the bitter sweet. I can't really help it, I'll go through my life thinking to much over melancholy things like a little old lady. Lets be honesty, we're all little old ladies in the inside aren't we? I wonder if my little-old-lady-inside still has red hair... Maybe it's gone grey... That'll be the day.

I don't really know what Potter is planning to do from this point. I mostly expect him to say something witty and then leave me to it while he goes off to look for his parents. But after the past ten minutes something makes me think that he won't just sod off with a smirk and jibe. This new, strange James Potter doesn't act as I expect him to at all. Like simply stopping my runaway trolley and stopping me from falling over isnt like him. Honestly caring about whether I was ok isnt like him. Sticking to my side holding an umbrella above my head, talking to me kindly is most definitely not like the James Potter I know.

I stop once we walk through the doors to stare at him expectantly, waiting from him to dash away. Well that's what I'm expecting. But he just stopped too and stared right back at me, eyebrows raised. "You ok there-"

"Whats up with you?"

The words burst through my lips before I could even stop them.

FilterfilterFILTER!

Great. Now I seem like a big ungrateful prat.

He eyes me cautiously, lifting an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

I roll my eyes, does he not _know _what I mean? "You're acting strange." The curt, cold reply rushes from my lips before I can turn on my word filter. Ugh.

He glances around, smiling in a confused sort of way. "Am I? How"

I pause. "You're being nice to me. You haven't done anything wrong and you're helping me." I narrow my eyes at him. This boy is up to something. "Why?"

Unexpectedly, he lets out a little laugh. "Is it a crime to be nice to you?"

"It's not like you." I reply, I understood exactly what I mean, why doesn't he? He was there every time we threw insults at each other in previous years! Doesn't he get that he's acting strangely just by not glaring at me?

He turns thoughtful for a second, something like disappointment or self shame (as it Potter actually knows what that emotion is.) glistening in his eyes. "Oh." He manages and looks up at me with a frown. Whats he frowning about? Seriously why can't I just get to the bottom of this and be done with it all?

"So?" I continue, still looking for an answer.

"So?" He repeats softly, confused.

"So, whats gotten into you?"

He sighs a long sigh and looks me dead in the eye. And ok, I'm not going to say that his next words didn't surprise me (they bloody well did), I mean he's James potter for goodness sake!

"Is it my fault that I don't want to go through another year of fighting with you? I don't like it, do you?"

Yeah.

I know.

Where's James Potter and What have you done to him?!

My eyebrows raise at his statement and I look around awkwardly before shaking my head. He wants to do this now? He wants to have a long and deep conversation now? The train leaves in, what? 4 minutes! Anyway what makes him want to do this anyway? It's not like he's had a problem with us being less than friend before, he never used to have a problem with hurling insults back at me in the arguments we always used to get in. So why does he decide that now is the best time for this?

My mouth has dried up. Is it bad for me to just stand here? Saying nothing? I mean he did just admit that he doesn't want us to be archenemies anymore, should I be agreeing him? But, I'm not going to lie, I don't trust him. I don't trust him to not burst out with howling laughter and yell "Gotcha, you crazy bitch!" And run away. I'm half expecting the rest of the Marauders to lead out from behind the reception desk and hex me until I turn green. James Potter would not just, out of the blue, become nice and say he doesn't want us to fight anymore. It's just not him.

I've got to get out of here before something happens. I do _not _want to be turning up to the start of year feast in a dark shade of glittering purple.

But Potter gets there before I can. He runs a hand through his mop of hair, his eyes scrunched together as if fretting over a mistake. Maybe his mates were supposed to have jumped out but now.

"Whatever. Forget it." Is all he says as I stand in silence. He give me one last meaningful look and then mumbles something out the train and how it'll be leaving in a few minutes and how he still has to say goodbye to his parents before he turns his back on me and, finally, begins to strut away, hunched over with his hands in his pockets.

Wh... What the bleeding hell just happened?

Was that actually real? Seriously? Did I black out after my trolley crash?

Those last ten minutes of my life are so far, the most confusing thing I've ever experienced. Ok. Right. Lets think about this logically shall we? Yes.

Ok, so Potter sees me dashing through the car park after my trolley and decides to help me out by stopping my trolley.

_Why - motives unknown. _

Potter then proceeds to help my up after an embarrassing fall and asks me if I'm alright.

_Why - "because he's not heartless, I could have broken my neck." Or so he says._

Potter helps me get back together and then walks over to the station with me while talking about our families.

_Why - motives unknown._

Once inside the station, Potter states the he doesn't want to "go through another year fighting" with me.

_Why - motives unknown. Suspected pranking. _

So to sum up. I have no idea what is going through his mind. He's a boy after all. Boys are different from girls. Girl logic is a completely and utterly different from boy logic. Girl logic actually makes sense. The same cannot be same about boy logic - no, that is not in fact because I am a girl, shush. - which is completely alien and stupid.

Is he actually being genuine? Does he want to stop all this fighting? And... Why did he storm off after I didn't answer him? Why did he look suddenly dejected or something?

Ugh.

This is difficult.

I need some outside advice. I need to find my-

_Oh buggering hell! THE TRAIN!_

Shitshitshitshitshit!

I've been standing here for three whole minutes! The train leaves in 57 seconds!

Shitshitshitshitshit etc.

Well. Better start running. Oh great. Not again. And so I break out into a run, pushing my wobbly trolley in front of me as I dash through the station, probably maiming and crushing numerous muggle bystanders under my trolley as I go.

40 seconds.

I zig-zag through the busy train station until I reach the barrier to platform 9 3/4 and have no time to delve into my nostalgic tendencies like I would so like to, I just quickly whip my head around carelessly looking for watching muggles.

30 seconds.

I break out in my run once again and head straight through the barrier onto the platform. I let out a rush of air, seeing that I am not the only late comer and a few half dozen students are rushing forwards to get their trunks of the train before hopping on themselves. I angrily push through the wizard families to the luggage cart at the back the train.

20 seconds.

I leave my trolley with on the side of the train and levitate me trunk and Archie into the compartment. I grab my rucksack and sling it carelessly over my back. I had hastily packed it this morning, all it contains is a few rolls of parchment, a couple quills and some Wizarding money.

10 seconds.

Panicky, I shove past more families, ignoring their disapproving noises from behind as I quickly rush to the nearest door onto the train. And thankfully, I step up into the Hogwarts Express with 5 seconds to spare and slump against the side of the door. Thank Merlin. I've never missed the train and I plan to make it to graduation without having to.

The train shudders and begins to move and I open my eyes to gaze out into the crowd of Wizarding families, all smilingband waving to their kids. Mothers of first years cry and fathers of seventh year smile wistfully. Mothers run about yelling to their kids to see if they forgotten things, father stand and smile at their crazy wives. When I was younger I used to wish wholeheartedly that my parents could be out there, waving to me with everyone else. I wished I would be able to smile and wave back at them for the last time in a few months while i was at Howarts. But I never got to of course.

Wait? Is that...?

Out there, at the back, he's staring at me, his eyes crinkled as he gazes at me as if concentrating... Is that... James potter? No... He must be on the train somewhere... But then, who is that? I stare at the man, who is he? Why is he looking at me with such an amused yet interested expression?

Oh of course! It's must be Mr Potter! How had I not thought of that before? He looks just like his son, older of course, but he looks exactly as one would imagine Potter will look like when he's is fathers age. Mr Potter is older, around 50-60. He stands next to a lady his age, holding her hand. The woman is waving frantically somewhere to my right. Mr Potter keeps his eyes trained on me and then a grin stretches across his face. His eyes flicker down the train to my left, where Mrs Potter is waving to, and then back to me.

What is he doing? Why is he looking at me like that? Did Potter tell them about me? I have told my parents about him. They know just what kind of a prat he is. Did Potter tell is dad about me? How I'm a kill joy shrew? Probably, judging that way that Mr Potter is watching me, he obviously know who I am, probably because of my damned hair. But why is he grinning at me?

I stare right back at him at the train leaves. Mr Potter says something to, who I assume is Mrs Potter and she looks over to wear he points. A grin instantly spreads on her face from ear to ear and they both look at me and smile. Mr Potter nods in my direction and Mrs potter gives me a small wave.

And... Well I can't help but smile.

I know that they are in fact the parent of the boy whom I considered the bane of my existence, up until this morning when he'd just confused the hell out of me, but in Mr and Mrs Potter, I see my parents. Smiling and waving at me as I go off to school as I've always wanted them to. My heart swells slightly at the thought. It's like my parent have made it through the barrier, to say goodbye.

I know, I know. I'm stupid. Of course I am. They aren't my parents. I've never even met them! I only know who the couple are because of their uncanny resemblance to their son, but I lift my hand before a second though and wave slightly until they disappear from view when the train picks up speed out of the station.

Jeez it's been an eventful morning. I need to talk to some one.

And I know exactly who.

Blocking the events from this morning. From my mind for the time being, I take a deep breath and stand up straight. I walk begin the familiar walk down the train corridor. It's quite a trip, with first and second years running about excitedly. Third years laughing and joking loudly, playing pranks on passerby students, including me. Fourth and fifth years are more mellow, sitting in closed compartments, more often than not, snogging.

But anyway I make it through the train, looking in each compartment door, searching. I only get jinxed five or six times before I find the compartment that contains the people I'm looking for.

I grin, forgetting completely about this morning as I wrench open the compartment door and slump in, thankfully out of the ruckus that is the train corridor.

* * *

"LILY!"

I instantly get tackled onto the seats behind me in a vicious hug. "LILYLILYLILYLILY!"

"Marls!" I laugh and wrap my arms around Marline McKinnons form.

"LILYYYY" another body adds to the giant hug as Hestia Jones leaps onto us.

I laugh loudly. "Hestia!" Ah jeez guys, a girls gotta breathe! "Get off, you prats! You'll suffocate me!" I choke up out, still laughing.

Marley and Hestia have been my best mates since I first met them. From the moment I stepped into my dorm they were the only ones there at the time and we, please excuse the terrible clique, just clicked. I hadn't known them on the train, on the train for the first time back seven years ago, I had sat by myself in a compartment with one other first year boy that didn't even try to talk to me. He got sorted into to Slitherin anyway. I had sat at my very first feast at the Gryffindor table alone. Surrounded by other first years but I could pluck up the courage to talk to any of them.

It was only when I stumbled into the dorm and saw Hestia and Marls sitting laughing on the same bed that I actually spoke since leave Kings Cross, I spoke to them. Hestia and Marley had met on the train this morning and sat together, for a fleeting moment i remember thinking that they wouldnt want me in their little best friend thing and id be alone for the entirety of my school life, but then they welcomed me into their friendship with wide open arms and beaming smiles and we formed an inseparable trio.

And ever since we have indeed been, inseparable.

They're the best friends I could ever ask for, I know its soppy, but I don't know what I'd do with them. Without Marley's witty retorts and Hest's loving teasing, I wouldn't be me. Both ridiculously pretty, purebloods, accepted me as the ginger muggle born with mental and emotion instability I am and wouldn't take me any other way.

We've been through so much together, you couldn't pry us apart if you tried. and people have, trust me, you do not want to go there. We're so sad that every time we leave for the summer one of us ends up crying, causing the other two to join in because we can't stand to see each other cry. We're all mental basically, but we're mental together.

"Lily!" They both say/squeal again as they push off me.

"Awh I missed you guys." I laugh and slap their arms softly.

"Don't be a pansy." Marley scorns at my soppy statement, but then smirks. "But I missed you too."

"And," Hestia suddenly, lashes out and whacks me hard in the boob. "That, Is for not meeting us." I yelp and clutch my chest. Owwww! What the nell?! I thought they were supposed to be my mates!

"Firstly," I say say coldly, turning to Hest, "_That _was uncalled for." I quickly flick my hand out and thwack Hesties own boob as punishment. She yells and clutches her boobs like me while pouting. Take that. "Secondly," I carry on, turning to face both of them, "I have good and utterly confusing reason for not meeting you."

Marley raises her eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"Do tell." Hest joins.

I laugh and take a deep breath. Ok... So the question is, where do I start? "Well basically, I was running after my trolley after I lost control of it in the car park. So I was dashing after it in the rain, slipping and-"

The compartment door slides open. "Lily, you need to come to the prefect-"

Remus Lupin pauses in the the doorway, looking between me and Hest. I raise my eyebrows. Whats he looking at? And what does he want for that matter? I'm trying to tell a story! Yes I love you Remus, yes you are the most decent out of your idiot mates, but nobody interrupts Lily Evans when she's in the story telling zone. And can't he at least spit it out instead of standing there staring at me and Hest in the doorway with his eyebrows scrunched together, looking at us as if we're mad.

Well, we are but he doesn't know that! Shhhh.

I turn to Hestia with in confusion and all of a sudden, Marley bursts out laughing and falling into fits on her seat. I look from her to Hestia, then to Remus and Back to Hest and then-

Oh buggering Merlin.

Slowly my hands slip from their protective position over my breast and my face reddens considerably and I reach out and pull Hestias arms away from hers as well. Then very comically, Hest does a double take down at her boobs, realising that her and me have literally be cupping our boobs to protect them from further abuse from each other.

And Remus have walked in on us like it.

Well... This is interesting.

Hestias face turns beet red in almost a second as Marley continues howling in the seat opposite from us. That sodding prat.

And then quickly before I could even try to stop it (I wouldn't have even tried to stop it) my foot is suddenly kicking one of her boobs. Oops. We do this too often. My boobs have barely recovered over summer from from the previous years assault. It's a pretty good attack though, I mean its easy to slap someone in the boob and its bloody painful. So basically its a win until they get you back and everything turns into a tit-slapping war.

Which is always does.

You know what I was saying as being mad? Yep. Need more proof? We have tit-slapping wars.

But for the record, I one last year.

Marley's howls of laughter turn into a howls of pain and I snort as she hugs her chest and glares at me.

It's then we all seem to realise that Remus is still standing in the doorway, his eyes wide as if he'd just witnessed some kind of zoo display where the monkey fight each other. Huh. Poor Remus, standing there all awkward. Cute.

I slowly fade my laughter and turn stand up to face the boy in the doorway fully. I smile at him, though I'm sure I'm still red to the tips of my hair with my furious blush. "What was it you wanted Remus?"

He swallows, bless him, and then smiles slightly. "Um, I was told to come find you, you have to come host the prefect meeting, as head girl and all."

Holy hell! How could I have forgotten?! I'm head girl! I have to go and do head girl things! After the whole morning thing I completely forgot about it all. I mean, I don't even know how! The day I found I out I was literally jumping up and down with excitement, bouncing around the kitchen as mum and dad laughed and proudly hugged me.

I was so surprised. I remember wondering why the hell they gave me head girl. I thought it would have gone to Emmeline Vance, one of the other girls in my dormitory. She is is a very talented witch. How could Dumbledore give me head girl when there are girls like Emma out there? Well, maybe he is getting older.

How could I have forgotten! I have to host the perfects meeting in the first carriage with the head boy.

Right.

"Oh yeah, of course." I mumble, mostly to myself than Remus. "Am I late?"

"No, you've still got a couple of minutes, I think."

Right. Ok then.

I pause for a moment before turning to Hest and Marls and muttering a quick, "I'll be back in a bit."

"Yes you will." Hestia states. "You have to to tell us why you couldn't meet us this morning. If the reason isn't good, I will never, EVER forgive you." With that little piece of over dramatics she smiles sweetly at me and turns to the window.

Marley is just glaring at me.

Sorry not sorry.

I give her a wicked smirk and then turn and leave without turning back. Remus follows after me, smiling.

Remus and I have been friends since we both got made prefects. At first I thought he would be just as bad as his idiot best friends but, he wasn't. Remus is levelheaded, smart and everything is friends are not. He's alright. We schedule rounds together a lot, he's good to talk to, he a good listener. He's quiet and thoughtful and has mostly gotten used to my unhealthy characteristic trait of rambling madly while its quite. He's a good bloke, the Remus.

I lead the way up the train, to the front carriage, the prefect carriage for all those prefects that want there own large designated area. But mostly, everyone leaves after the meeting to sit with their mates in a compartment and the Slitherins claim the large, unused space. There's even a head boy and girl compartment up front, just behind the driver. I've never been in before but I know its a place people usually sneak off to to snog because the heads don't often use it.

The large space hasn't changed since last year, i walk in and instantly everyone turns around to stare at me expectantly, there are only two empty seats in the room, mine and Remus'.I instantly turn red again with my blush. Not late, huh Remus? Not late at all.

I keep my gaze focused on the floor as I tiptoe to my empty seat, as the rest of the prefects whisper quietly at my entrance. It's weird sitting here actually. I never really dreamed I would ever sit here as a head, but here I am. Funny how the world works, huh?

I keep my eyes glued to the red carpeted floor as the talk dies down and it seems that the meeting is about to begin. I realise that my head boy is sitting right next to me right now, I still have no idea who he is... Never found out as McGonagall didn't mention it in the letter. I wonder who the boy with whom I'd be spending half my time this year is... With my luck, I bet its someone like Christopher Fallen, notorious handy man (by handy, I means handsy, if you see what I mean) or Richard Bright... Or even Snape... Maybe if I could just peek up and-

"Alright... So, um, welcome, I guess, to you prefects."

Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me.

This isn't happening.

But sure enough, when my eyes immediately snap up to lock with the boy next me who had just stood up shakily and spoken to my fellow prefects, my eyes were met with the hazel brown, of James effing Potter.

This _is _a big joke right? He's going to start laughing and then say something like, 'Nah, I'm joking, I'll go now." And walk out. Seriously? Who in their _right mind _would name Potter as head boy! The boys had more detention than I can count! He never ever obeys the rules and is a general, well a massive dick basically. He cannot be head boy! The blighter wasn't even a _prefect _last year! Why can't Remus be head boy?

Please Potter, for me, just walk away.

_This can't be happening. _

The bastard gazes back down at me, and everything that happened this morning come flooding into my head, crystal clear, yet still confusing as hell. He's obviously expecting me to stand and say something and when I don't he just swallows and turns back to address the prefects.

"So I'm James Potter, Head boy." _No you bloody well aren't, thank you very much. _I've worked too hard for this to let him go and blotch it all up before I even start! I mean, I know I didn't think I would get head girl, but I had always hoped! I mean, I had always worked for just in the slight chance that maybe Dumbledore had noticed me.

Potter turned to me again and I blinked owlishly up at him. I know its not the great idiots fault, but I'm angry at him. How could he ruin this for me? Handsy Fallen is better than Potter! The boy in question eyes me with eyes that so obviously say, "your turn." But I still can't bring myself to move.

And before I could blink his hand is on my arm for the second time this morning and he's forcing me to my feet, gently, but still with enough power to make me move.

"Er, yeah. Head Girl, um, Lily." I mutter. "Lily Evans."

Why didnt he tell me this morning? Maybe he didn't know that I was head girl? It's seems like a potter thing to do to go about gloating to anyone who would listen, so why didnt he let it slip? I'm so _annoyed _at him! He could have at least warned me! I want to slap him! Hard. And in the face. He's going to ruin it all, just like he ruins everything! Its not fair. Why does my luck always force the worst of things onto my shoulders? I've works my butt off for this and Potter just saunters on in with a smirk on his face and claims to be head boy!? It's. not. Fair.

Potter smiles at me. I can't do this. I cannot spend half my time with this idiot! I can't! I'll resign! I'll make him resign! Anything. I can't live with that obnoxious smile on my back all the time!

* * *

The whole prefect meeting flashes by in a blast as I stay relatively quiet, seething on the inside at no one in particular. (Well, mostly Potter but whatever.) I only speak when it is necessary and allow Potter to take the reigns on this, one, meeting.

And well, to be fair, speaking objectively of course at the whole thing, he didn't do a half bad job. Yeah, I know! James Potter didn't make any inappropriate comments or jokes, he didn't pick on anyone or do anything stupid, he was altogether, pretty organised and good with it all. As I listened to him talk to the prefects, telling them the rules we all know and the duties we must undertake, I saw that Potter from this morning. Potter who wasn't a dick, Potter who was actually funny and kind, Potter who had that strange glint in his eye. He was, well different. He wasn't Potter at all really. If I'm honest. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but he really was decent during the meeting, not scum of human kind at all.

Jeez, whats happened to me?

Maybe that crash was worse than I thought.

I'm actually admitting that Potter isn't half bad.

"So basically, don't be a prat." James finishes and looks at me.

"Yeah, don't be a prat." I echo, thoughtfully.

Everyone in the room laughs lightly, probably at Potter, and then begins to get up and start to wander away.

Well that was... Interesting.

My whole head is a massive jumble. I'm feeling so much right now I'm surprised my head hasn't exploded all over the walls of the prefect cabin. I'm mostly confused. Confused at Potter and how he's different. I'm also angry, at Dumbledore for giving the stupid git head boy in the first and at the stupid git himself just because, well he's easy to be mad at even though it isn't his fault. I'm tired and still kind of moist and altogether, not having a great morning. But, so help me, I will get to the bottom of this Potter thing.

I only realise that I'm one of the only people in the room when the Slytherins start giving me dirty looks and I quickly sling my bag over my shoulder and hurry out the carriage after the last few people.

"REMUS! REMUS!" I screech as I push past people to reach the startled boy further down the carriage. He's walking with Potter and they stop and turn at my yells and watch as I come hurtling down the train corridor to them. They're both laughing by the time I reach them, chuckling at the madwoman running at them. I ignore the laughs and, careful not to even look at Potter, I grab Remus' arm and push him into a spare compartment to my right.

Remus is still laughing quite heartily once safely in the closed compartment, his forehead crinkled and his eyebrows raised. "God, Prongs will be so jealous." He mutters and looks to the closed doors behind me, still laughing to himself.

"What?" I ask, Prongs?

Remus look up at me and smirks. "Don't worry." he breaths one morelittle laugh and tears his eyes away from the door. "What do you need, Lily?"

Well, it doesn't seem he at all surprised that I just attacked him and forced him into an empty compartment. I can't work out whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

"Whats up with Potter?" I ask, might as well be right to the point.

Remus seems surprised by my question. To be honest I'm surprised of myself too actually. "Uh, what do you mean?"

"He's acting different."

"He is?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, he is."

"Are you sure?"

"YES REMUS HE IS."

"Oh... I hadnt noticed." Uuuuuuugh.

"Do you, or don't you know why he's acting different?" I ask, come on mate, you're usually more helpful than this!

"Different how?" He asks, his forehead crinkling.

I pause, well were do I start? "He's... It's like he's changed... I don't know. He's different from last year and the year before. He's not as much of a prick. He's... I don't know, nicer, better, good?" I say uncertainly.

Remus, being the helpful boy he is, just smiles. "Ah."

I wait for him to continue. Is he going to deny that Potter is different? Maybe I'm the only one that can actually see it...? It might just be me that sees the potter from last year is completely different from the guy I met today. An entirely different person. The boy hasn't hexed one person yet! This person isn't Potter. It's... It's , i don't know, James.

"Ah?" I mimic to get Remus to start talking.

He chuckles to him self and a smile stretches across his face. "... Well what do you know James, you actually got through." He says it under his breath and not looking at me. Well that was informative.

"Remus? Can I good are actually gonna say something?"

Remus shakes his head and takes a step closer to me. "He has changed Lily."

"So you see it too! Because I've noticed, I mean Potter hasn't bullied anyone, or insulted anyone. He hasn't given me a reason to yell at him and he's been actually kind to me! I don't know, but something is making him hold back his true self. Do you know anything about it? Are you all planning something? If so, tell him to quit it. It's confusing me." Ok I know I'm rambling now, and I have no idea where my word filters hint to. "I used to know what to do back when Potter was himself, but now that he's being nice... I just don't know! He's being all-"

"Lily, is it so hard to believe that James has grown up?"

Remus' question throws me off track. Grown up? What does he mean grown up? James Potter will probably make it to his grave still with the mind of a child. And if he has, why choose now? He's already got a reputation? He couldn't become a good student if he was forced to a gun point! I mean, he's got good grades and a lot of people look up to him, but he uses his power for bad, not good.

Whole morning has been utterly mind destroying in its confusing and out of the ordinary nature. I just want to sit and forget it all. Things were easier last year when I could ignore the stupid boy. I just want him to leave me alone.

I stutter. Not quite sure what to say. Not quite trusting my word filter to disengage and start sprouting out all kinds of stuff at poor Remus standing in front of me with a determined look in his eyes. "Of course you'd say that..." I begin, still not sure where I'm actually going with this. "You have to, he's your best mate."

Remus shook his head and a rueful smile turned at the corners of his lips. "Ah." He says. "There's the old stubborn Lily. So this won't be a simple as I thought."

"Seriously Remus, I'm confused enough as it is. I'm sorry if I'm crabby, but if you have nothing more enlightening to say, I'd like to go." Maybe pulling Remus in here was a mistake. Hm... It had been such a split second choice, but now, if its possible, I'm even more confused at Remus' remarks.

"Lily, just remember, James is head boy for a reason." And with that he smiles at me and leaves.

WELL THAT WAS A FAT LOT OF GOOD. Thanks mate.

Ugh... I have... I have no idea.


	2. Heads Priorities

_**Disenchanted - A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

DISCLAIMER - I do not own the Harry Potter series, the books, films, (yes 'films', I am british.) characters, locations, concepts, yarda yarda yarda. We get the picture.

_**Trust me, the chapters get better... I wrote these ones ages ago, well it seems like that. Ill probably post the next chapter soon aaand thank you to everyone that reviewed and stuff because you make me happy (and I'm super ill right now, gimme a break).**_

_**And a massive thank you to my beta Megan, you're fantastic, go check out her stuff once I find her pen name and yeah, here goes.**_

_Lily POV_

**2. Heads Priorities**

* * *

_**Previously**_

"Seriously Remus, I'm confused enough as it is. I'm sorry if I'm crabby, but if you have nothing more enlightening to say, I'd like to go." Maybe pulling Remus in here was a mistake. Hm... It had been such a split second choice, but now, if its possible, I'm even more confused at Remus' remarks.

"Lily, just remember, James is head boy for a reason." And with that he smiles at me and leaves.

WELL THAT WAS A FAT LOT OF GOOD. Thanks mate.

Ugh... I have... I have no idea.

* * *

So. I've decided it's easier to hate James Potter than to read into every little thing he ever does that is out of my definition of him as a person. It's easier just to go on ignoring him like last year. That way I won't constantly have a _splitting_ headache because I'm so confused at him. I've decided to let the morning go and quit brooding about it. I can now let my emotions work the way they always have over Potter and I have let my anger surface over his positioning of Head Boy.

"Life hates me." Is all I say as I storm into the compartment where my two best friends sit, engaging in a good old game of exploding snap and neither have had their hair singed off yet. All round, a good sign. Not that I was paying attention to this because my deep burning anger has in fact clouded my vision. "You know Merlin? Yeah, Merlin hates me."

Marley and Hestia sigh and set their cards down on the makeshift table they seemed to have transfigured. Though it looks a little shaky after all the explosions, it doesn't collapse straight away as I would have thought.

They both turn their heads to look at me and almost in unison they say, "what have you gone and done now?"

I huff angrily and throw myself in the seat next to Hest and cross my arms over my chest. "The prefect meeting was bloody awful. The train ride has been bloody awful. The _morning _has been bloody awful. My _LIFE _has been bloody awful."

"What happened at the meeting?" Hestia asks, giving my leg a reassuring pat, which really just irritates me more than calms me down.

"Did you get stuck with Handsy Fallen?" Marley asks.

"No. I just hate everything and everything hates me! I want to hit something... Marls, positions your face opposite me. Or your boob, boob will do."

Marley backs away but laughs. "You know, you're really not helping the red-heads-are-massive-bitch-demons-from-firey-hell stereotype."

"Sh, Marls, not helping." Hestia says. "What happened? At the prefect meeting? What did you want to tell us about this morning?"

I shake off the question about that morning, I had already chosen to brush that one away, forget it and not get anyone else involved. But that doesn't stop me busting my guts with hateful words about Potter. I tell them everything I had been thinking, about Potter and the meeting.

"He's head boy! Who in their right mind would give _him _head boy?!"

"This is what you're cross about, Lily?" Marley asks when I finish my mini-rant rolling her eyes.

"That Potter got head boy?" Hestia finishes. "How is that bad? It's not like Dumbledore's forced you to be Man and Wife, its Head Boy and Girl, Lils."

"Calm your shit." Marley sighs and leans back. "You'll only have to talk to him at meetings and to sort stuff out with rounds and stuff. No one's forcing you to be anything but professional with him," She pauses and leans forward, "But Lil, James really isn't that bad a guy. He's different from fifth year. Even Hest sees it, you're just so blind and oblivious that for the whole of sixth year you completely ignored him."

"I like ignoring him. It means I can just get on with my life, rather than having to waste my time on him, talking or shouting. But now I'm practically forced to spend time with him!" I throw my hands in the air. "That bloody... That bloody... Wanker!"

They both laugh at my outburst. Thanks guys. Great friends you are. You're supposed to share my feelings. "Firstly, wow. I think that's the first time I've heard you swear since you almost fell off the moving staircases last year." Hest says, smiling fondly at me. Ugh. Why is everyone smiling? "And secondly, it's not James' fault that he's head boy. Dumbledore picked him, and as poor a that decision may be, he didn't have a choice."

I growl. "He could have refused the position."

"Lily, you don't just turn down being a head."

"Well he should have! He's not fit to be head boy! He's a bully and a right prick most of the time! He won't be able to be serious about everything!" I screech. Even though I know that I had thought so myself, that James had been incredibly good with the prefect meeting.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he has it in him. Are you indeed contradicting the greatest wizard of all time?!" Marley says sarcastically.

"Would I dare?" My voice drips with equal amounts of sarcasm.

"Listen Lily; just don't let him get to you." Hestia says, sincerely. "I don't like him either, just ignore the blighter, like last year."

"I bet you anything that he'll grow on you." Marley smirks. Oh sure. That's gonna happen.

"Even I agree that he's not the same person as he was in fifth. You didn't pay enough attention to realise that last year." Hest reasons with a shrug.

"Plus he's one fine piece of ass. I can't believe you don't see that." Marley says, nodding to herself.

"He's actually quite responsible now. He only got 12 detentions last year."

"You're lucky, normal girls would do anything to be forced to spend time with James Potter."

"He's an alright guy now. It's Sirius you need to be careful of."

"Sirius is fit as well."

"Even when he's with the marauders, he's usually fine."

"The rest of the Marauders are quite nice looking too. They're quite an attractive bunch, really."

"Marley, will you shut up?" Hestia stops to glare at Marls.

"Just making comments." She defends.

"Yes, but are they quite necessary?" Hestia challenges.

"Well that depends on who you're talking to."

"You're so an-"

"OH MY GOD WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP BEFORE I HIT YOU BOTH." I yell. Jeez. Can they at least save it for a time when I'm not thinking about jumping about and smashing people's faces in? Yes I know I'm 5'4" and have about as much muscle power as a possum with kidney failure but I doubt you'll want to cross me when I'm annoyed.

But really... I don't even know why I'm so angry. It can't be just about the head boy thing. It's all just spiralled and I've worked myself up. I'm being ridiculous. They're right, I have to calm down.

Potter didn't choose this.

And with that, my anger simmers down. Like always. I can't hold grudges. I can only stay cross for around seven and a half minutes at a time.

"Lily, listen to me. You've got to give James a chance. He hasn't done anything massively wrong since fifth year. He's changed, Lils, he really has." Marlene leans towards me and looks at me sincerely.

Again with change. I thought I was forgetting about all this 'change' stuff. People don't just 'change'.

Alas, I am prohibited from arguing my point any further when I hear the familiar call of the angels. Or as some people hear it, the call of the Sweet Trolley Witch.

"Anything from the trolley?" The calls can be heard from outside the compartment, and is like music to my ears. Yes, you beautiful Sweet Trolley Witch, yes I will have something from the trolley.

"Thank Merlin you beautiful woman." Marley breathes as we all hop up and rush to the door of our compartment to watch as the trolley witch makes her slow way towards us. It's almost a tradition that when the trolley witch comes by you have to drop everything and get food. Don't ask me why, but anyone at Hogwarts will tell you the same. I remember in fourth year, going home for Christmas, Marley, Hest and I were screaming at each other over a boy Marley had dated (because he was a massive wanker to her), we were literally about to start pulling each other's hair out when we heard the beautiful call and dropped everything for the delicious sweets. It's just how it works

"I don't think I've ever been more happy to see an elderly witch with a pink bonnet coming towards me in my entire life." Hestia sighs, gazing dreamily at the most adored witch on the Hogwarts express.

"Except for every other train journey on the Hogwarts express when the trolley comes by." I correct. And they both nod, barely even listening to me. Eh, I can't really blame them.

We stand by the door watching the witch serve other students until she finally reaches us and smiles. "Anything from the trolley, my lovelies?" And I swear I could have leaped forward and embraced her right then and there. I didn't have breakfast this morning you see. That and everyone knows the Hogwarts Express sweets are the best things on the entire planet. No, I am not exaggerating.

"Yes! Sweet mother of Merlin almighty, yes!" Marley chimes at the smiling woman. Ok, it all may seem a bit over the top. But see, you just don't understand.

And soon enough we are back in out smallish compartment laden with food and other such delights, stuffing ourselves until quite content. It's a well known rule that on the first train journey of the year, every year you buy as much as you can from the trolley and eat until you go mad. It is a very good tradition if I say so myself.

"Well." Marley exclaims. "I'm happy."

I nod in agreement and Hestia doesn't even acknowledge that anyone even spoke as she munches on a pumpkin pasty, all arguments and feelings of anguish and/or hatred at a particular black haired boy completely forgotten.

* * *

"Welcome, everyone, welcome. To the start of this wondrous school year. Welcome to our newly sorted house mates, we all hope you enjoy your time here at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But, however old I am, I do indeed know that you all have no such time to sit and listen to me go on and on when there is food on the way! So I will leave you be, happily, with your knives and forks!" Dumbledore sits down with just that and mountains of food appears atop previously empty plates and dishes on the Gryffindor table. People cheer and, as it is every year, instantly get stuck in and load their plates with all different types of food.

Last welcoming feast at Hogwarts, EVER, my nostalgia tells me.

I grin.

"You know what they never have at our table?" Marley starts. "Haggis. Never any haggis. They only ever put it on the Puff's table."

"Marls, you don't even like Haggis." Emmeline Vance says, without looking up. She sits opposite to me, next to Marley, shaking her head as the latter goes on complaining that that's not the point and pure favouritism. If we wanted haggis we'd have to get up and walk all but twenty paces to the Hufflepuff table to get some. It's outrageous.

Emmeline is one of my other dormates. In my dorm, there's me, Marls and Hest, Emma and Mary McDonald. We're all friends I guess, except for Hestia and Mary who always just seem to rub at each other all the time. Mary and Emma are kinda close, but me, Marls and Hest have always been the best friends in our dorm. We had tried the whole "big group of friends" thing once, where all five of us were best friends, but with Mary and Hest things just didn't work.

"I should be more concerned that the Ravenclaws always pinch the barbecue sauce." Hestia muses. "I'm going to go and get some." With that, Hestia just gets up and walks across to the Ravenclaw table without another word to 'get some barbecue sauce' though we all know that she hates the stuff and only wants to go over there to kiss her stupid secret boyfriend that she thinks we don't know about even though it's as obvious as hell. She's totally ditching us.

"When do you think she's going to realise that we know already?" Marley laughs.

"The question is, why isn't she telling us?" I ponder.

"Who is she actually dating again?" Emmeline asks.

"I don't even know his name, Something Kendrick I think. Terribly boring and plain, won't last." Marley states.

"Marls, you shouldn't say that. He makes Hest happy." I laugh.

Hestia has had a boyfriend since the last term of last year. They got together at the end of spring and we found out midway through the last term. She has never breathed a word to us about this mysterious boy for reasons none of us know, but we haven't badgered the poor girl, even though _some_ of us - Marley - wanted to go and scream at her immediately after we found out. I had restrained her of course, telling the hot headed girl that Hest will tell us when she's ready and all that crap, but still, she hasn't said a thing.

"Bloody Hestia and her boyfriend acquiring skills." Marley growls, bitter. But it's true, Hest is the only one of us, including Emmeline that actually has a boyfriend. Emma recently got out of a bad relationship so she doesn't mind. I don't really care that much because I've never really been desperate to have a boyfriend. I mean I had gone out with boys like Davy Gugeon and Adrian Barns but nothing serious. Mary has a boyfriend, well, to be honest she has multiple boyfriends, at the same time, but that's all hush hush even though the whole school knows about her views on monogamy. Marley is the only one that actually cares about being single. And boy does she care.

"Maybe if you stopped sleeping around, people would think of you as girlfriend material." I jibe, poking her in the ribs.

"Oi!" She yelps and elbows me in the boob. I'll get her back. Mark my words. "I _am _girlfriend material! Just look at me! I do _not_ sleep around. Just because you're a prude doesn't mean that because I've actually had sex a couple of times I'm instantly a super-mega-slut."

I snort, still rubbing my breast.

_From where she hit me. _You perverted child.

"Yeah, only had sex a couple _hundred _times." She scowls at me before taking a bite out of her chicken leg in a highly ladylike fashion.

"At least I've lost my V card." She mutters.

I snort again and leave the conversation be. I really don't care too much about that. My V card is still happily tucked away, not to be removed any time soon thank you. I've gone far enough for now thanks.

And Marley isn't really a slag, she just dresses like one. She doesn't _really_ sleep around. Well... Much.

"I just want a boyfriend." She murmurs, leaning on her elbow.

"Any boy would be lucky to have you." Emmeline says sarcastically, mid-chew.

"Yes. Yes they would." She agrees, nodding vigorously. "Now if only _they _could see that..."

"Well, you work on that, but in the mean time, can you pass me the salt?" Emma asks.

Marley chucks it at her.

* * *

All continues as normal for the rest of dinner, eating and laughing and conversing with many of my fellow Gryffindor's, while glancing around the large hall in search of some mates of mine from different houses. I caught sight of a few, Ted Tonks on the Ravenclaw table gave me a beaming smile and a wave. Benji Fenwick called a "HEY LILY" all the way from the Hufflepuff table (causing me to blush and wave back), Amelia Bones gave me a soft smile, as did Greta Catchglove.

Hestia returned to the table after a far too long time, without barbecue sauce might I add, but Me, Marls, Emma just smirked and let it slide. For now, she'll have to tell us at some point. Even if I have to use veritaserum to get it out of her.

At some point, dinner turns to dessert and soon enough I can't fit anything more into my weakling of a stomach. So I sit and wait for all the other, stronger stomached people to finally give in and it's another half hour or so until it seems everyone has finished.

"Well, now that our stomachs are full, I believe it's time to begin doing the same with our brains, yes?" Dumbledore has gotten back up and is speaking once more, smiling heartily. "Our caretaker, Mr Filch, wishes for me to remind you that the forbidden forest is completely out of bounds to all students." The elderly wizard looks pointedly down at the Gryffindor table, exactly where the marauders are indeed sitting, but he has an amused glint in his eyes and everyone knows that he is happy with everything as long as no one is putting themselves in danger, and that the Marauders have been in the forest countless times and come out completely unharmed. Those bastards always get out of it.

"And Professor McGonagall wishes to remind all students, third year and above, to hand in their Hogsmead permission slips to her or any other head of house by the 20th of September." Dumbledore nods at Professor McGonagall. "Also, this year, we are welcoming Professor Snippet as our new arithmancy teacher." A smallish, plump wizard stands from behind the staff table and the hall sounds with polite applause until the small man sits back down.

"Yes, yes, welcome Professor," Dumbledore continues, "And one last thing," the smiling man becomes very grave very suddenly, as if something grim has appeared at the end of the great hall. The whole room goes silent and turns slightly cold and Dumbledore frowns, something of a rarity for the headmaster. "These are dark times. The future ahead of us is looming grey and we must all be aware of that. Dark magic is common and our news headlines will be grim. Our world is heading to midnight and we must be ready... But we must look for the best in everything. For every thestral, there are two unicorns." The silence stretches on and on horribly until the headmasters face breaks into a lighthearted smile. "But for now, I think that is everything. I hope that you have a wonderful time at Hogwarts, and I do believe we are in for a fantastic year." The wizard smiles happily down at us all. "Now off to bed!"

And at that all the food vanishes from every plate in the hall. The prefects throughout the hall stand and begin to shout to their houses where to go. Every student reluctantly gets up and follows the prefect's instructions in leaving the hall. Things are loud and busy, the room buzzes like a hive. But what can you expect, people are undoubtedly excited at the start of year party there will be in each houses common room, alike every other year at Hogwarts.

Well, I for one will not be attending. I just want to curl up in bed with a nice book.

...Jeez. I'm such an interesting person.

No wonder I'm single.

I find myself leading a bunch of first years up to the Gryffindor common room, trying to calm their nerves as I go. They pelt me with endless questions about anything they can think of concerning the castle, the teachers and magic in general... I do my best to answer, smiling kindly at some obvious muggleborns, but their screeching is giving me a migraine. Once the portrait hole is in sight, I almost sigh with the relief of being rid of the 11 year olds surrounding me.

"Ok, so this is the Gryffindor common room, you can come here at break and lunch, between classes and really, whenever. Whether it's to study or just meet up with your friends, there's plenty of space. You are always welcome here, but you can't bring other houses up. There is a password that only Gryffindor's are told and you can't get through the portrait without it, and that is... Is..." Oh shoot... I don't _know _the password! Wasn't someone supposed to tell me? Now I look like a right idiot, standing here in front of the portrait of the fat lady that guards Gryffindor tower. Even she's watching me with scepticism. Oh jeez. Was I supposed to stay back at dinner and ask McGonagall? Well it's too late to go rushing back down now! Why do I have to be such an idiot sometimes!

"Mystic Krumptweed." A low voice says to my right, making me almost jump out of my skin. I whip round and see Potter standing to my right, smirking at me. "Didn't stay to hear the password, eh Evans?"

Oh brother.

"Shut it Potter." I answer curtly and turn away from him. _I'm ignoring you. That means I do not wish to engage in any sort of conversation. _And why must he always smirk at me like that?! It's just too condescending! And cocky and argh!"Mystic Krumptweed." I tell the fat lady, evidently trying to keep my voice low. She raises her eyebrows at me but the portrait swings open.

"Ok, in you go all of you, the Gryffindor common room." Potter says to the first years. I grimace at the words. _That's _my _line. _But still, the innocent first years know no better and follow Potters instructions to file into the Gryffindor common room with looks of amazement on their faces.

I would have had a good old nostalgic moment relating to my first day of school, my first time entering the common room, except Potter won't stop staring at me with a bemused look on his face. I wonder how bemused that face will look with my fist in it.

"I knew you'd get Head Girl." He murmurs.

Eh? Are you trying to start a conversation with me Potter? Not gonna happen. Go find some second years to terrorise or something, I have better things to do with my time.

I completely ignore his (nice) statement and nod coldly at him, pushing the thought of thoughtful, trolley-stopper Potter from this morning, that wasn't him. "That's great, Potter. It's a shame I can't say the same about you." I say and then climb through the portrait myself.

Yes, yes yes, that may have been a little rude. He did just compliment me and all, but I know from experience that whenever he complements me, whether it's about my hair or the way my eyebrows scrunch up when I yell at him, it's always really meant as an insult. I don't know how. I don't know why. But that's just him. He does it for a laugh, like everything he does.

Like how he used to ask me out in fifth year. _All the time. _He just posed the question once and when I said no he just wouldn't stop. I knew that if I said yes it would all unfold into an elaborate practical joke to mess with me. For the whole of that year he'd ask me. At the beginning it was obviously the joke thing, but as it went on, he became more desperate, something I pinned as the fact I was the only girl who has ever refused him, and for a boy that gets everything, he couldn't handle it. I was obviously an object to him. I don't care what Marley or Remus tell me, I know I'm right.

I shrug off any feeling of regret and quickly dash through the common room, avoiding anyone who wishes to speak with me and quickly reaching the stairs to the girls dormitories before the party can begin.

I don't know why I did it, and yes I regret it now, but once I'm safely three steps up the girls staircase, I turn around. I don't know what I thought I could gain from such a thing, but I did it anyway. My mind isn't a place I understand. How do I expect to grasp anyone else's? (Including a mind full of unknown motives to be nice to me this morning, which I'm sure now was some kind of insult.)

However, I turned anyway and scanned the large, red common room. The party is starting and most students from fourth year and above have stayed down here, instead of going straight to their beds, in order to part take in some lighthearted partying. People are setting up music and making drinks and all I can think is I'm gladly going to be in bed for the next hour or so, curled around a nice book. Which book? I hear you ask? That is yet to be decided.

And its then, just before I'm about to turn around that my eyes glance over to the still open portrait hole. Where I meet eyes with a sullen looking boy. And no matter how hard I try, I am unable to look away. I'm thinking my eyes need a filter too.

Standing in the portrait hole is a, dare I say it, depressed looking Potter. He looks considerably down-trodden. I don't know why, but I have a feeling it's something to do with me.

I do not feel guilty.

I really don't.

He's obviously just teasing or something.

But... Why does he look so helpless?

Ugh! What am I even doing? I'll tell you what I'm doing, I'm contemplating Potters actions and motives again! I don't care. I honestly don't. Potter can look as downright sad as he wants. Humph!

I force myself to turn around and make my legs carry me upstairs to the seventh year girls dormitories. I need to sleep. Why can't I just bloody stop thinking about it?!

I stomp through the door to find only a half of my roommates in the dorm. Marley and Mary McDonald look up at me as I storm in, with confused looks on their faces, they seem to have been discussing something and I have interrupted.

"What are you two doing up here?" I ask. No offence or anything Marls, but alcohol, drunk boys and dancing? Why aren't you at the party?

Mary looks at me. Me and the mousy girl in front of me have always been friends, she's not the easiest person to stay mates with, what with her constant mood swings and temper issues, but I've managed to hold out on her. I used to be closer with the brunette until she turned on me in fourth year because of my friendship with Hestia and we fell out royally. We made up of course, but we were never the same.

Her expression now is soft, yet slightly amused, whereas Marley looks wary, as if I may explode at some point. And in all honesty? I do agree with her somewhat.

"The question is, what are _you _doing up here?" Mary asks, in a condescending tone.

I roll my eyes. "You both know I don't do parties."

They pause and Mary sniggers slightly. Marley then proceeds to whack the chuckling girl in the arm and stumble over to me.

"Lily, I don't know if you know this or not, but you didn't mention it this morning, which makes me think that you don't. Because if you did know, you definitely would have brought it up. Um, I don't see why McGonogall didn't tell you, it's seems like a pretty useful bit of information to me, and I don't see why James hasn't bragged to you about it yet. Then again you're not going to be happy with him after you find out so-"

"Marls, what are you talking about?"

She's rambling. I've known Marlene McKinnon for long enough so know that she rambles when she's avoiding something. Something that she doesn't want to do for a specific reason. So what is she on about now? Whats this about McGonogall and Potter? What didn't I mention this morning? Does she know about Potters strange behaviour? I hadn't said anything, so that would mean she'd have to had spoken to Potter himself, but when? She was in front of me when we left the-

"You don't live here anymore. You have your own dormitories. The Head dormitories."

What?

_What?_

I... I don't _what?_

"You're kidding right?" Marls and Mary look at each other before turning back to me and shaking their heads. "But... But how do you know? They've never done this before?! The heads have stayed in their original dormitories! Why would they change that now?"

My voice is surprisingly low. Usually I don't handle new like this well. Par exemplé when I found out Potter was Head boy. This is exactly the same. Except then, I had been fuming. Now? Now I'm just... Well I'm kinda upset. I mean, I don't get to live in the same dorm as my girls anymore. No more midnight chats or sleep tit-slapping wars. No more storming into the room when upset, looking for attention. I have my own room now. In my own dormitory. With my own common room! That I'm sharing with Potter.

But, as much as I think about it, I don't seem to be annoyed that I'm being forced into spending more time with the great git. I'm all angered out for today. Emotionally wasted. I'm a wreck. I can't even pluck up the energy to seethe over my rotten luck.

"Well shit." I breathe.

"Lils, it'll be fine. The Heads common room is literally right next to the Gryffindor one. There's a new portrait hole that leads straight to it just down from the fat lady." Marley says, stroking my arm. "You can come see us whenever."

"They made a whole new common room?" Yes I know, not the most appropriate question to ask right now. I should be annoyed. What the bloody hell is wrong with me.

"Well." Mary starts, even her natural 'higher-than-thou' tone is gone. "I heard from Rufus Fudge who heard from Victoria Thomas who had heard it from Sirius Black, who was obviously told by James that McGonagall had stopped him before dinner to tell him and that he was going to tell you when he got the chance. McGonagall apparently only told him that Dumbledore thought it was a good idea for the heads to be together what with the goings on out in the Wizarding world."

"Ah." I breathe. Well that didn't answer my question, but hey-ho. "Oh." So they're making us stay together because of the Wizarding world. The war.

"Are you ok, Lil?" Marley asks, stepping forward to catch me in a soft hug.

"Yeah." I answer, honestly. "I'm fine." And I don't know how I'm possibly fine. But I, apparently, am. "So I guess, I just... Go."

"We'll miss you darlin', but your dorm is literally just to the right of ours." Marls says, letting me go, only to hold me at arm's length and stare me down.

"I'll miss you too." I mutter. "But, hey, we'll work something out. Make a passage that leads from my bedroom to here. Or make a two way mirror to the one in the bathroom. Or... Or... Get telephones..."

"Lily, I love you, but what in the name of Good Godric is a 'telefone'?" Mary says.

A laugh escapes my downturned lips and Marley manages to grin at me. "We'll sort something out yeah? Don't let the James get to you," she pauses and smirks. "And don't be a bitch to him."

"I am not-" I begin, ready to defend myself.

"Ah!" She cuts me off. "You know that you can be a bitch to him. A bitch in general." She chuckles at my unamused face. "And, since you're living in the same dorm, no funny business." She winks at me and I roll my eyes at the obscenity and manage to laugh again. As if.

Not the time Marls. Im undergoing extreme stress and it seems my regular emotions and reactions have been disabled. Oh jeez.

"Shut up." I elbow her in the boob.

Lily : 1

Marley : 0

"You are coming to the party though?" Mary asks as Marls steps back.

"Ah, no." I instantly say. No matter my sleeping arrangements, I have a date with a charming fellow, filled to the brim with pages and pages of words. Sorry.

"Oh please Lily! Don't be a prude!" Marley whines. She must know by now that whining won't get her anywhere. Silly. She walks back over to me in the centre of the room, where I have been stood since I came into my old dormitory. She grabs ahold of my arm and shakes me a little. "You have to come!"

"Sorry Marls... Some other time." The words tumble from my lips without my brain even thinking about it. It's too busy elsewhere.

Marley stares at me. Unconvinced, but it seems she decides against the usual Marlene McKinnon tactic of harassing someone until they comply with your every wish. She just sighs and looks at me grudgingly. "Lil, don't worry about James. It'll all be fine." She lifts her hand to stroke my cheek.

But how can she know that? She doesn't know what he'll do. She doesn't know what he's planning. It's a golden opportunity for him, living with me. And unless he has, indeed, 'changed', there's no way he's going to pass it up.

"I'm fine." Reply, trying to smile, though it came out wrong and turned into some kind of maniacal grimace. "Just... confused."

"About what?" Mary asks, following Marley and coming to stand to my right.

"Everything." And with that word I suddenly realise how bloody true it is. I have no idea what's happening now. The world could throw just about anything at me, and after today I may not ever be surprised anymore. Everything that's happened is bouncing off the walls of my head, screaming for attention that I'm not willing to give it just yet. I don't want to think things through, because I have no answers, I'll probably just end up even more confused than before.

I want to sleep.

And never have to think about today. Never have to talk to anyone again. Never have to actually ever wake up.

Marley nods slowly, still frowning at me in a very un-marleyish fashion. "Ok. But remember, I'll be thinking of you, down there, at the party. I'll be missing your stressing and rants. I'll be missing your tiny shriek, telling people to stop pratting about and go to bed. Remember that, ok?"

I smile. I'll remember that. "Well... I suppose to should go to my room."

"Go. Don't miss me too much." Marley coos.

"No promises." I sigh. "Have fun tonight." Mary raises her eyebrows at me and grins. "Not too much fun." I add sternly before hugging them both and turning out of the room.

Down in the common room, the party is just starting, music blaring and food and drinks set up everywhere. If it's possible it seems everything is even redder that normal with the themed festivities. The lighting has been bewitched to flash in different colours and the fire glows a glittering, golden flame. There is even a banner hung over the fireplace that reads _WELCOME BACK WANKERS _in colour changing letters, I suspect the banner belongs to one Sirius Black. I scowl at it and debate tearing it down, or at least changing it into something a little more PG-13, but in the end decide to just stay out of it all. If McGonagall comes for me to ask why I didn't stop everything I'll just plead ignorance.

I walk through the large room quickly, avoiding anyone I come in to contact with. I hear a few people call my name but don't bother turning round. I don't look anyone in the face, I keep my eyes down as I bumble through the crowd, just in case a certain someone appears.

Finally, I'm at the portrait hole. Now just to climb elegantly-

"Lils!" Someone grabs my arm and yanks me around to face them. "Where are you going? The party's just getting started!"

"Hest, I'm leaving, I'll explain later yeah?" I have to raise my voice so it can be heard over the loud music, some wizard band I think, I'm not to up to date with magical music, it's so different to normal, muggle music. Hestia pouts at me and then pulls me in for a hug.

"I'm expecting you back at three to tell us all to cut it out, Miss Head Girl." She pokes me in the stomach. I manage a weak smile when Hest lets go of me. "Oh! Wait! I forgot to say, James told me to tell you that you're both-"

I hold up a hand to stop her. "I know."

She frowns at me and I think she's about to say something else. Oh Merlin. Can't a girl just go and read? I cut her off before she's able to say any more. "I talk to you later, I'm tired."

The girls frown morphs into a scowl and I pat her on the arm before turning around and dashing away before anyone can stop me.

I make it out of the common room and swing the portrait of the fat lady closed behind me until I'm standing outside in the empty, dark corridor alone.

Ah.

It seems we've had a slight problem.

Which portrait is mine?

There are in fact four portraits to right of the fat lady, down the corridor. Marley had said that it was right to the right of the Gryffindor dorm. But... Which portrait?

Ok, let's do this the old fashioned way.

"Um excuse me, but do you know where the Heads Dormitory portrait is?" I approach a painting of a man in a top hat with a cane and an official looking suit on and ask him this in an, oh too polite voice.

The man quickly looks up at me, eyes wide. "Je suis terriblement désolé, Mademoiselle, je suis français et je ne comprends pas vos phrases en anglais. peut-être que si vous utilisez un dialecte français je serais d'aide? Je serais ravi de vous, belle jeune femme aider."

"Er... I'm sorry?"

The classy man in the painting starts to speak rapid French again, none of which I pick up. Um... Should I just nod along? What if he's asking a question? Or telling a joke? Should I be reacting in a specific way?

I resolve on just smiling apologetically at the man and edging away slowly.

Going...

Going...

Gone.

Well that was sufficiently awkward. Let's try another shall we?

I walk over to a picture of a herd of unicorns, beautifully painted, they look so perfect. A single blond haired young girl sits in the corner of the frame, wistfully watching the pearly stallions frolic. I remember the first time I'd ever encountered a unicorn, in Care of Magical Creatures actually.

Professor Kettleburn had told the class that only 'pure girls' could go and see the unicorns up close, very awkwardly using the term "girls still ahold of their flower' which made everyone cringe. At this point Sirius Black had called out very loudly, "looks like you can't go see them then, Marls!" At which everyone laughed, including Marlene herself, except for me.

The girl in the painting looks up at my approach and raises a finger to her lips, telling me silently to be quiet. She glances back at the unicorns to the right and smiles at me, shyly.

"Hello." I whisper.

"Hello." She replies in an airy voice. Ah good, so this one isn't French. Always a good thing.

"Do you know where the portrait for the new Head dorm is?" I ask, still keeping my voice as low as possible, as if the unicorns will hear me, get startled and run off.

The girl giggles slightly and nods. "Are you head girl?"

"Yes I am." I smile at her as brightly as I can in my current state and hope it doesn't turn out as a scowl again.

"Oooh!" The girl breathes. "You live here now then don't you! The lovely headmaster told me that I had been chosen for a special job and my picture was moved here, he told me that I would guard the two most important students at the school. Well, he didn't say exactly that, but it was implied. He was awfully nice and, naturally, I was very excited to get a job! And so-"

"I'm sorry," I cut the girl off with her ramblings. "But I'm supposed to be in there." I motion to her portrait, assuming that she is indeed the portrait that hides the entrance to my common room.

The girl looks down sheepishly and smile. "Oh yeah, of course." She pushes a golden strand behind her ear. "Well, you haven't decided on a password yet, so I suppose, just show me your badge and I'll let you in. That's what I did with the Head Boy."

I pause at the girls words. It's not that I don't want to go in there just because Potter may be in there, I just wanted to sit and think, something I can't usually do when said person is around. If Potter is in there he may want to talk to me, therefore I'll use my usual strategy and give him a curt no before turning away, but the new Potter doesn't seem to take no for an answer. Enough was displayed to show that this morning in the rain.

"Is Po- the head boy in there now?" I ask, casually.

The girl scrunched her forehead in confusion but shakes her head. "No, he went over to the main Gryffindor Common room, there's a party there."

I smile and nod. "Ok. So badge, yeah?" I swing my bag off my back and set it on the floor in front of me before crouching down and rummaging around for the badge and envelops required that I had slung into the bag this morning.

Hmm... Maybe I should get more organised.

I look up at the girl as I search. She's looking back at the unicorns, and I can't blame her, beautiful creatures. If I didn't have so much on my mind I might just sit out here cross legged and watch them with her, out here on the stone floor.

Unicorns don't have worries. They don't have confusing boys claiming to be Head boy all over them. Stupid perfect unicorns.

"What should I call you?" I ask the girl as I still search around. God dammit! Where it the stupid thing! I knew I should have pinned it to my robes straight away, but oh no! Hestia just _knew _I would undoubtedly lose it. I'm not that bad, am I?

"Yvette." The girl replies softly to my question. "Or just 'the unicorn girl' as I am known by everyone else."

"Yvette is a very pretty name." I tell her. "Like those unicorns." I nod to the distant herd.

"They're fascinating..." The girl murmurs. She moves from her cross legged position to lay back against the grass she perches on and gazes at the soft creatures from her spot. "I could watch them for hours."

I look up from my bag and smile. Genuinely. The innocence of this small girl is what makes me lighten up the tiniest bit on the inside. Her girlish giggle makes me want to laugh too.

"I could too." I answer, shifting my gaze back my bag. It's true though, I could sit out here and watch them for hours as well. I want to clear my mind of all my thoughts and watch the earth's most perfect creature go about in its life. My brain could relax for once.

"Why don't you?"

I laugh a halfhearted breath. "Not today." I sigh. "Too much on my plate."

She smile sympathetically at me. "I see. One day though. Watch them with me?"

I nod and smile more. "I promise."

She grins at me before fixing her purple eyed gaze back on the frolicking creatures below her.

"I'm Lily, by the way." I murmur.

Yvette looks at me. "Like the flower?"

"Yes, my mother was a little obsess- ah ha!" I pull out the envelope that contains my badge out of my bag with a flourish. "Here it is!"

Yvette leans towards me to inspect my badge from her spot in the painting and then smiles. "You're clear... It was nice talking to you, Lily."

"You too." I reply honestly with a small grin. "Again some time."

The portrait swings forward with a final giggle of the small girl. Behind the Yvette's large portrait is a small hole in the wall, about big enough for a single person to climb through.

So.. I guess this is home then...

As I climb into the new Heads Common Room, I will my mind to stay completely focused on... Uh... The scenery. Only that. Yep. The scenery. Er, the room is red. Yeah, see, scenery.

You see, my mind seemed to have wandered after Yvette had gone, no longer a distraction from my thoughts.

Scenery. The room. It's... Er... Nice. Yeah really nice.

It's pretty much just a smaller version of the main Gryffindor common room. The walls are wallpapered a gold patterned red, the carpet the same. There are two big windows that look out onto a view of the Hogwarts grounds, and if you look far enough into the distance, Hogsmead. There's a cobblestone fireplace with a mantel piece above on which a few trinkets and things lie and opposite the fire is a dark brown coffee table and behind that, a large red and gold sofa.

I swear to Merlin I could literally just jump on that couch and pass out right here.

I can't believe I've got this all to myself. Well, almost. Close enough anyway, because I can just ignore the hell out of my housemate. The whole place is far too big for just two people, and I seriously can't believe that Dumbledore had made this place especially for me.

Us, whatever.

Of course the main reasons behind the idea for the Heads Dorm is decidedly darker, or so from what I've heard. But if Dumbledore really only wanted a heads dorm so that the head boy and girl could be together because of the dark things happening outside the grounds, well, doesn't that mean that me and Potter are supposed to do something about it?

Does Dumbledore seriously expect me, a weedy, whiney, red headed muggle born with a bad temper to be able to do something in order to fight the dark side? What's he planning?

You see, there are good wizards, and then there are bad wizards. It's always been that way. Good and bad. Even in the muggle world you get murderers and rapists, it's no different in the wizarding world.

There has always been some kind of prejudice. And in the wizarding world's case? There is a prejudice against people like me. Muggleborns. The purebloods think that just because they have had families full of wizards, and only wizards, they are better than us with muggle parents. What? Do they have more magic than us or something? Because that's ridiculous, half the purebloods I know are below average in class.

It's all stupid.

Anyway, so this git has come out of nowhere, completely and utterly up his own arse, going around calling himself 'the dark lord'. And this guy, Voldemort, his name is, is the most prejudice of them all. He absolutely hates people like me. And muggles for that matter. He just thinks he's better than everyone.

So this Voldemort character has a lot of people that agree with him. Bloody idiots. He has, yep, _followers. _For god sake. They call themselves 'death eaters' and they are completely out of order.

But the thing is they kill people.

And you can either be scared out of your wits about them, or you can pretend ignorance.

The latter is easier. Trust me.

So, in my eyes, it's all just a stupid feud. It'll be fine. Probably.

I walk further into the room and plop myself doing on the sofa, kick off my shoes and stretch out. It's a dark world, but dear Godric this sofa is heaven.

As I open one eye after my good ol' stretch I notice some parchment resting on the table in front of me. Hm. Pushing myself off the cushions, I reach forward and gently pick up the parchment before bringing it up to my eyes.

I blink.

_Dearest Lily, _

_I'm terribly sorry we didn't let you know about your new living arrangements for this year. Professor McGonagall did happen to pass by James to tell him but she never made it to you. I'm glad you have found your way to the new Head Common room and hope you don't mind too much about the new plan. _

_You see, throughout this year, I will be needing you and James to work together for me, help me, if you will. And to do so, as simply and easily as possible, I have given you two your own dormitories. I do hope you won't miss Miss McKinnon and Miss Jones too much and I'm sure we can make arrangements for you to keep in touch with your dorm. I thank you for your helpfulness Lily, because it is relatively crucial that you and James are able to speak to one another at any given time. Because, as you may know full well, Lily, there are dark times approaching and I need your help._

_But enough from me for now, I know you are tired and I hope you get a good night's rest. _

_Oh, and one more thing, please could you and James come to my office on Tuesday evening, after dinner, so I can fill you both in properly._

_I do hope you trust me on this._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore._

I re-read the note at least four times. He can't seriously think that I'll be any help? I mean, I can see what he sees in Potter, he's a natural leader, and he's strong and smart and works well under stress. Everyone likes him; they do what he wants just because he's practically royalty but me? Please.

A weak little muggle born that is completely useless unless in a classroom. That can't even figure out her own problems enough to be able to go five minutes without obsessing over them. I won't be able to help at all. I don't even know why I'm head girl in the first place.

Oh, I shouldn't be thinking about this. Not now anyway. I'm sure Dumbledore will explain everything on Tuesday.

"Ugh!" The noise slips from my throat as I throw my head back onto the soft maroon cushion behind me. I bet my hair goes great with this colour. Not. I toss the parchment away, paying no attention to where it happens to land. I'll find it later. Hopefully.

And now I can finally just lay here and read. In complete quiet. Without the girls bugging me, with only the soft hum of the party next door, without worries, without emotions, without anyone. All alone in my little den.

I spot a red (any guesses for the colour scheme, eh?) blanket folded up under the coffee table and reach forward to retrieve it. Ugh, movement. But, with the soft cotton fabric on my hands and I manage to yank the blanket onto my person and throw myself into a comfortable laying position on the giant settee. My toes don't even reach the end. I'm not even that short!

_5'4" isn't short. _

And being the lazy sod I am, I fetch my wand from my bag, which I had slung next to the sofa when I had sat down earlier, and wave it slowly. I mutter a summoning spell and wait patiently for my book to find its way out of my trunk, down the staircase, and onto my awaiting lap.

Mm.

* * *

I should probably go and break up the party.

I should probably go to sleep

I should probably go up to my room.

I should probably do a lot of things.

But having just woken up at three in the morning, still on the common room sofa with the blanket wrapped around me, I don't really have the energy to do... Well anything really.

The slight hum of the party next door is dying down now anyway. I don't know why I woke, everything is almost silent, and I usually sleep deeper than a dead troll. I don't even remember falling asleep. One moment I'm laying, contently reading my wonderful little friend, Mr Book, and the next I'm groggily opening my eyes to a dimly lit Common room, my book lying face down on the floor next to me.

The embers of the fire are all the lights the room. So in other words, I can't see a bleeding thing at all.

The room could be full do death eaters sipping tea and I wouldn't know.

Ugh. Why am I even thinking?

My head drops back down onto the cushion I had been using as a pillow and I clear my head of all thoughts. Go on, thoughts, you're not wanted, run along, off with you.

It doesn't work of course, but there's no harm in trying.

And just as my eyelids begin to droop, there's a loud _thump._

My eyes snap open once again and I look around the room. Fat lot of good that did. I fumble around for my wand before finding the slick wood and holding it up.

"Lumos."

A light begins to flicker at the tip of my wand, an orb of white. I hold it up and shine it around the room.

No death eaters, no tea.

But I do happen to see my new housemate.

Oh lord.

Should I go over to him? Is it bad of me to just leave him lying there on the floor in front of the portrait hole and go back to sleep? Fine.

I groan quietly and rub my eyes. "Potter? That is you isn't it?" I whisper.

There's a pause, where silence stretched through the air before, "Lily?"

Yes it is him. Of course it is.

I sigh quite audibly and throw my blanket off me before getting up. I'm fully clothed still, quite groggy and very dishevelled. There's a kink in my neck from my position on the sofa which I soon stretch out, and my arms and legs feel like iron.

I lumber over the now closed portrait hole and kneel down. "You alright?"

The body in front of me moves, turns over from its position, facedown on the floor, to lie on its back. Potter raises his hand to his face and rubs one of his eyes before running it through his messy hair

Ugh why can't he _not _do that?

"Tired." He mumbles. "And... Fuzzy."

"You been drinking Potter?"

"Not gonna rat me out, are you, Evans?"

Even in the dim light from my wand I can see his smirk. If this git wants a hand, he's not going about it the right way.

"I haven't had too much." He confirms, but from his position, on the floor, I somehow, don't fully believe him.

"Sure you haven't." I mutter sarcastically. "Shouldn't you be in some girls bed anyway? Or is she coming over now? Gone to freshen up before joining us here?"

Potter laughs. "Not quite, Evans."

I don't reply.

Why does he do this? Why must he be so completely confusing - and irritating - and then make me go about and ponder his very existence until my brain falls out, or explodes. Why is he acting so different. From fifth year I mean. And, more importantly, why have I stopped my 'ignore him' plan before it's even begun?

He's being nice. He's not even making fun of me. He hasn't all day. Not really.

I should help the poor tipsy boy in front of me. He's not drunk. I've seen Potter drunk and this isn't it. Drunk Potter would be streaking around the castle right now. And I suppose a not quite sober Potter is better than daytime Potter, he's incoherent; he won't try and pull anything. I hope.

"D'you want a hand?" I ask, tiredly.

"Are you going to put me to bed, Evans?"

"Are you going to shut up Potter?"

"Are you going to make me?"

Ok, so maybe he's still a cocky little shit, but he's not being mean...

"Do you want help or not?"

In answer, Potter sits up, slowly and awkwardly. He lets his head loll forwards for a moment before looking up at me with unfocused eyes. He holds his hand out to me.

I huff and stand up, "I was sleeping you know, Potter." I sigh exasperatedly, before brushing off my clothes and taking his hand.

He's heavier than I expected, but maybe that's because he doesn't put any effort into my lifting him up and lets me do all the work. The whole time he's just staring at me. Constantly. It's rather unnerving really. But soon he's on his feet.

Down side, he's standing less than a mere couple inches from me.

I can smell alcohol on him. And cheap perfume from the girls he's been around and danced with. Under that? His scent. The scent I breathed this morning. It hits me like a tonne of bricks and I find myself breathing deeply in front of him.

Woah.

Um. Yeah.

I quickly step away from him, noticing his intense gaze hasn't left my face once.

Well this isn't uncomfortable.

"Evans-" he begins.

I hold up my hand and look away. I don't want to listen to him. I've been so good at this putting off thinking thing, why stop now?

When I look up again he's frowning at me. I sigh and turn my back him. "Goodnight Potter." I mutter. "Try to sober up for lessons."

"Evans-"

I quickly run off, not wanting to look at him. At all. I dash up the girls staircase, to my room. And I don't stop until I've successfully made it to the top of the stairs. My hand is on the door, ready to push it open and crash out in my bed when I hear him call my name again, followed by a loud crash and a thump

"Lily..."

The prats gone and fallen down the stairs. Stupid idiot deserves it.

My head shakes, involuntary and I push into my room and slam the door behind me.

Ugh.

Why...? Why is this all happening? Am I still at Kings cross? Passed out in the car park? Missed the train? Oh god.

The whole day has been dreadful. And I just can't stop questioning Potter. I need to find out why he's acting like he is! What if it's a ghastly plot to embarrass me? Or hurt me even? Maybe he's doing it on purpose, to watch me struggle within my own mind, and laugh at me. Why does he have to be such a git? What did I ever do to him? I've kept my distance, why can't he? Is it really that hard?

I shouldn't have helped him. But something made me, because I knew that he had helped me and I needed to do the same. I didn't have to of course, but still, one way or another, I had ended up helping the intoxicated boy to his feet.

And what the hell came over me when he finally got up, stood centimetres in front of me, so close I could feel his laboured breathing on my face. So close I could smell his specific smell. And more importantly, why did I recognise the smell? And even worse, why do I like it?

I slump against the door, my back hitting the hard wood with a bump. My head falls into my hands and tears begin to prick at the backs of my eyes.

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with him?

Maybe I'm just tired. I need to sleep. Yeah. Sleep.

It's been a long day.

I grudgingly push up off the door behind me and stumble across the unfamiliar room. In some ways, I'm glad I'm alone. I don't want the girls to see me like this. All pathetic over a stupid boy I had sworn to ignore. I'm glad that they're not all around, inquiring over what happened, harassing me, keeping me from sleeping. But, on the other hand I need my girls. They would hug me and give me advice, make me feel better.

I'm all alone.

And tired.

Sleep.

Yep...

Sleep.

I fumble around for the bed and find it on the right hand wall of the room facing the centre. I fumble at pulling the covers away.

Ah bugger, I'm still fully clothed, aren't I?

I squeeze my eyes closed and begin peeling my clothes off my person. It's cold. There's no fire in here to warm me up. It's just all dark and chilly.

My wand, I need my wand. I'll make a fire.

My hands instantly reach for the bedside table, the usual residence of my wand, but-

Ugh!

It's downstairs. On the table. With my book. And my bag.

I really don't want to move.

But I'm cold.

And I need my wand. What if the tea party death eaters burst into my room at five in the morning? Huh? I wouldn't be in too good a spot then would I? No. No I wouldn't.

Quickly, I slip on an over sized, muggle band t shirt and cotton shorts from my trunk as make shift pyjamas and pull the band out of my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulders, before I stumble back over to the door and tip toe down the stairs.

It's dark. And I don't have my wand to light anything up. I'm going to trip. I can tell. It's in my nature. I'm just genetically a clumsy little bugger. Stupid dad. It's all your fault and I blame you entirely. If I die from falling off a cliff or something, I'm holding you respons-

Woah!

Did I just kick a dead body? Ew ew ew ew ew! Oh my god what?!

Oh. It's Potter.

I shudder.

Is that better or worse than a rotting corpse?

Sprawled out at the foot of the staircase is James Potter. Lying in, what I presume is, the same position he fell into when trying to enter my room. He's out cold. Is that because of the drink, or the fall? Hm...

I don't care.

I hop over the git and shuffle over to the middle of the room. I retrieve my bag, sling it over my shoulder and then scoop my book off the floor and hold it in my arms before picking up my wand and grasping it firmly.

And now. Sleep.

Thank Merlin.

It must be... What? Half three in the morning now? Yay. Classes are going to be a joy tomorrow.

There's a noise from behind me. I turn. Potter has rolled over in his sleep and thumped his head against the wall.

Aha.

The little sod.

He moans softly.

...

Ugh fine. I'll help him.

I grudgingly slump over to the body on the floor and scrutinise him for a second before sighing and raising my wand. I mutter a levitating charm and Potter raises into the air, his limbs dangling under him.

I manoeuvre him so he's hanging in mid air above the large sofa. His hair hangs down from his lolling head, exposing his usually hidden forehead. It's rather long if you really look at it, his hair. Very long indeed. not as long as Sirius Black of course, but the hair easily sweeps down to his eyebrows when he hasn't brushed it up, so it sticks up, with his awful habit of running a hand through the black mop.

I don't see why everyone is so enamoured with the boys hair. People - girls - are always going about Potters beautiful head of messy black hair. Girls swoon at the sight of his hand sweeping through it. I don't see the big attraction. All I can think is... it really needs a good cut.

Hm...

Where the scissors?

Eh, whatever. Later.

After holding Potter on the air for around five minutes, letting all the blood rush to his head - accidently, of course... ahem - I finally flick my wand and let him drop onto the cushions at an awkward angle.

There.

Good deed of the day done.

God it's been a long day.

"Night, Potter."


	3. Plesantries

_**Serendipity - A Harry Potter Fanfiction**_

DISCLAIMER - I do not own the Harry Potter series, the books, films, (yes 'films', I am british.) characters, locations, concepts, yarda yarda yarda. We get the picture.

_**So I'm not incredibly happy with this chapter and a I thought about completely rewriting it, but I have no patients and I wanted to get the damn thing up, know that this is a pretty crappy chapter though, the next few are better ;)**_

**3. Pleasantries **

_Lily POV_

* * *

_Previously_

_After holding Potter on the air for around five minutes, letting all the blood rush to his head - accidently, of course... ahem - I finally flicked my wand, letting him drop onto the cushions at an awkward angle. _

_There. _

_Good deed of the day done. _

_God it's been a long day._

_"Night, Potter."_

* * *

Potions would be my favourite subject.

I mean, I'm quite good. Also Professor Slughorn, the potions master, loves me. In the literal academic sense, potions is one of my best subjects, along with ancient runes and charms, I can just do it easily.

If I didn't have any classmates, this class would be bliss.

But I do have classmates.

And less than alright ones at that.

For a start, Snape is in this class. And, I'm sorry; he's seriously a creepy bloke. I know we used to be best friends and everything, but if he's going to carry on staring at me (_all the time_) I won't refrain from snapping at him and slapping him around the head.

Well, I would... if it weren't so greasy and disgusting, I'd get oil all over my hand.

Secondly, all the marauders are in this class. The table behind mine. And they just don't _shut up. _Is it really that difficult? Seriously? Do I _have _to hex them? And Slughorn doesn't even acknowledge them. He's gotten over trying to shut them up as he knows that it's an impossible task.

A task I'm sure a little manual labour in detention could accomplish.

But whatever.

Thirdly, Marley and Hestia are absolutely hopeless at potions. Awful, as in burn-your-body-hair-off awful. Marley turned my teeth multicoloured because of one of her potions once, and then the fumes from one of Hestia's creations had me unable to not speak in rhyme for 24 hours. Today I'm paired with Hest and she has literally sat back, put her feet on desk and is watching me stir the cauldron with amused eyes.

She won't be so amused when I douse her in my - perfect - Dragon Scale Cleaning potion.

So overall potions has quickly jumped down my list of favourite lessons. And after a day of transfiguration, divination and herbology, I just can't wait until I can get out of classes, finally.

Also, Potters been looking at me all day. All contemplative and confused. You don't get to be confused, Potter! How do you like it now, huh?

He's tried to converse with me as well. Like, proper normal person talk. Like, "How has your day been?" And "herbology sucks doesn't it?" What is he even playing at? If he doesn't cut it out soon, stop whatever game he's playing, I will curse him in his sleep.

I wonder if he actually remembers last night. He was probably too out of it. I hope he doesn't remember me helping him... It does _not _mean we're friends or anything. Far from it. Why would James Potter even want to be friends with me? And why does he keep staring at me! Snape is bad enough!

"Snape's staring at you again." Hestias voice murmurs, just centimetres from my ear.

"Woah!" I jump to the side. When the hell did she get up?! "Jesus Hest!"

"He's staring." She repeats, not acknowledging that I spoke, just looking pointedly to the right-bottom corner of the room. I look over to where I know Snape is sitting. And sure enough, he is still staring at me.

"What a surprise." I mumble and turn away.

"He's a weird little blighter isn't he..." Hestia coos. "Why you were ever friends with him I will never know."

I shudder. "I know. That's in the past now Hest, let it go." I snap. It's not that I still like Severus - I don't - but it's a touchy subject. I don't want to go on about him, but he was a massive part of my life for several years until he turned into, as Marley puts it, "a creepy little dickface that didn't deserve me in the first place." So I cut him out of my life. I haven't even spoken to him in what? A year? Yeah. He can bugger right off.

That doesn't stop him staring at me though.

Ew.

Hest chuckles, "I'm just saying-"

I shove her away and go back to stirring the cauldron. "Save it."

She shrugs and sits back down before beginning to fiddle with the small vile of lake fly I had just put down onto the worktable. "Merlin, I'm bored."

I glare at her, snatch the small, glass bottle out of her fingers and set it back down where it was on the table. "Maybe if you got off your fat arse and helped you'd have something to do."

She smirks and holds up her hands in defence. "Woah! Whats crawled under your skin?" She says sarcastically. And, yes I'll admit it, my mind instantly jumps to the bespectacled boy sitting behind me. He's whats got me wound up. Him and his stupid _'i'm not actually that bad!'_ act.

If I kill someone today, I blame him.

"Also, we both know that if I get up and help, I'll just get in your way and you'll get even crabbier."

It's true.

And I know it.

Ugh she knows me too well.

I scowl at the mousy haired girl and turn away after shooting her an "I'm _not _crabby" look. She just laughs.

Another five minutes pass and soon it's the end of the lesson. I almost moan with relief as Slughorns voice echoes around the room, telling us to bottle some of our potion and hand it in. That beautiful man.

Hestia takes the potion to the front as I pack everything up and sling my bag over my shoulder. And as soon as she returns, Marley joins us and we head for the door.

"He's staring at you."

I sigh. What a surprise. Why do they feel the need to point out Snapes staring habits all the time? It's not as if its a new and exciting thing. "Do you really expect any different? He's a creepy bloke."

"No." Hestia starts and turns to look at Marls. "Not Snape."

Huh? Snape isn't staring at me? Then who? My brow furrows and I look at the two girls incredulously. "Who?"

Both of them are looking behind my head, at the door. We've stopped walking by now and all the Slytherins are giving us dirty looks for blocking up the path to the door. I turn around to look for what they're staring at, at what's staring at me. And almost immediately after I turn around, I spot who they're talking about.

I roll my eyes.

Of course. How could I have not got it straight away.

Potter is standing by the door. He was staring at me, until I caught him looking that is, at which point his eyes flitted away and his hand reached up to rumple his hair.

I glare at him, out of instinct.

Why has not he left yet? Class ended a good three minutes ago. Potter and Black are always the first to bolt from the classroom at the end of the day. He isn't waiting for me or anything is he? Is he going to try and talk to me again? I swear to Merlin, I will hex him. My wand is, as they say, at the ready.

"Prick." I mumble to Hest and Marlene.

Marlene elbows me in the ribs. "Don't be mean."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Why not? He's mean to me."

Marley rolls her eyes and Hestia frowns at me, as if looking at a ignorant child, something makes her look at me with pure annoyance in her eyes. "Is he really though? God you're stupid" Is all she says before pushing past me and strutting for the door ahead, meaning for us to follow.

What the hell does that mean? 'Is he really though?' Yes. Yes he is thank you. ... Well, not this year, but... He is. He's mean to me. He teases me. Well he used to. And he's obviously planning something. Why else would be standing there? I can be mean to the git if I want. I have the right; after all said git has put me through.

And Hest doesn't even like Potter! It's always been me and her against him. Marlene, the traitorous bastard, actually likes Potter. And the rest of the marauders for that matter. Yeah. They're great chums, really good friends actually, her and Potter. But me and Hest had always been against him, ever since first year. We'd complain to each other about him all the time and laugh about his failures. Marlene would always get a little snappy when I insulted Potter, but not Hestia.

And I didn't even say anything bad! I said that he is mean to me. Which he is! Well, was! Or... Is? I don't know! But what made Hest turn from jokey and fun to annoyed and exasperated in five seconds flat is a mystery to me. Why does she care? He _is _mean to me. Well... Was? Is?

Ugh!

I have _got _to stop that!

Over thinking things!

Why am I even...

I huff and start off after my friends.

After a slight skip, I grab onto Marley's shoulder and pull her back into step with me. She's not happy. I can see it in her face. But at least she's still here, Hestia has run off somewhere.

"Marls," I begin. "What did I-"

"Alright Evans?"

I stop and grit my teeth. So he really is going to try and talk to me? Is he really that oblivious? Why does he even want to? It's some big plan. I can feel it. There's a dreadful prank coming on. Why else would Potter want to-

And where are you going missy?! Oh no you can't run off to Black and leave me here alone with the prick! That's no fair Marlene! I would not do something like that to you. Marlene has literally just walked away. She's now chatting it up with Sirius Black! How could she leave me!

What great friends I have, eh?

I deliberately turn away from Potter after I walk through the door out into the dungeon corridor. Maybe if I just walk away he'll-

"Hey, Evans!" He calls after me. Persistent little bugger, isn't he? "Lily! Wait a sec!"

A hand takes ahold of my shoulder and spins me around...

Woah... Wait.

Did he just call me Lily?

He did! He called me Lily.

Where the hell did that come from? And he's called me that before as well. Yesterday night. Well, technically, early this morning. In the common room when I had left him at the bottom of my stairs. He'd called to me. But not Evans. Lily.

Excuse me, but when did I get on a first name basis with Potter? He can't call me Lily! My friends call me Lily. _Potter _is not my friend. No matter how friendly he acts, I know that he's still that conniving little git he was two years ago. He can't just snap out of that. No matter what everyone says a person as bad as Potter can't just 'change'.

"Evans." He breathes again. Oh. So you call me Evans now huh? Why not give me more to obsess over? Call me by my middle name maybe? Or by the name of my long lost great aunt?

He's standing a foot from me, looking down at me from his 6" height. His eyes stare into mine and I breathe out slowly, and knit my eyebrows together.

"What the hell do you want?" I ask, taking a step away from him and beginning to walk down the corridor again.

It's a few seconds before he catches me up and matches my speed down the corridor. He seems shocked. At my answer? My walking away from the great James Potter? Wouldn't be the first time.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then grabs my hand, forcing me to stop my pace, and gently nudges me backwards out in the main traffic in the hallway. "Can't I just talk to you?"

Half of me wants to say yes. Maybe he'll tell me why he's acting so weird. Did something happen over summer maybe? Maybe I should ask him, get it out of him and finally get to the bottom of all this. Should I let him talk to me? What if it's all a big set up? What if the rest of the marauders are around the corner with barrels of pixies, ready to unleash them on me. ... But I do want to find out what he's playing at.

I lick my lips slightly, contemplating my options. He just stares at me, unfazed by my silence.

"No."

I walk away

Yes I know, I know, pretty harsh right? But he was just staring at me like, 'oh of course she'll say yes! I'm James freaking Potter.' Someone needs to deflate his head. And if that someone has to be me, I'm sorry, but I'm not afraid to. I'm not going to let him make a fool out of me. I don't want to speak to him. I don't even want to look at him, I haven't for six years! Why does he think that's changed now? Because of one momentary lapse of brain function yesterday at kings cross?

You can't mess me about, Potter, I won't let you make a joke out of me. I don't want to be part of your pranks or practical jokes. Grow up.

Ugh. I'm so annoyed now. And it feels like it's over nothing, but Potter seriously just gets under my skin! With his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk, his impeccable and irritating posture and his constant hair rumpling, it just makes me want to scream!

Minor details I know.

But... It's Potter. It's always been like that with him.

Throughout the whole of last year I had ignored him. Completely and utterly. I hadn't spoken a word to the boy except polite 'excuse me's and other common pleasantries. My anger and irritation towards him had subsided, and he had stopped interacting with me too. Everything was _fine _like that! Why does he want to change that now? The only logical explanation is that the whole 'nice' act is a big hoax.

Ugh.

I need to get over it. Go back to ignoring him.

I somehow find myself back at the portrait to the heads common room, not stopping to talk to Yvette and just rudely muttering the password, "Cavete" and slipping through into the Gryffindor themed room.

I don't hesitate before throwing myself down onto the huge sofa. I throw my hands over my face. I've confused myself again. And frustrated myself. Again. It's just... I don't like change. It scares me. Potter has, whether it's all a joke or not, changed since two years ago. And I don't like it. Really.

Maybe I should talk to him about it?

...

What am I even saying? Ugh. Now would be a great time for good ol' Merlin to smite me down.

Don't think about him. Don't think about him. Don't think about him.

Wait? Isn't thinking about not thinking about him thinking about him?

* * *

At dinner, Marls and Hest seemed to have calmed down after their little episode in the dungeons. They don't say anything about it and act completely ignorant when I snap at Mar about leaving me with Potter when she went off with Black in my moment of need, they don't know a thing.

Yeah. Course.

"What's got you so edgy?" Hestia had asked, raising her eyebrows at me as she loaded her plate with noodles.

The comment had made me scowl at her. "No one." I mutter. "Nothing."

They both narrowed their eyes at me.

"No _one_?"

"So some_one, _not some_thing_ is bothering you." They smirked at each other.

"Three guesses on who that someone is?" Marley chuckled at her own statement.

"Hm... Is it... Abbott?" Hestia asked, sarcasm dripping from the words. "Fenwick?"

I had almost growled at her.

"So why has James got your knickers in a twist?" Marley asked, straightforward, not bothering to joke any further.

"I don't want to talk about it." Is all I could think to mutter and after a slight struggle they had agreed to leave it as long as I told them tonight.

And here I am nine o'clock in the common room, still no intention of talking to them, those betrayers. Friends? Pah!

Still, at least it'd be something to do. I'm bored out of my mind! Transfiguration homework on the _first day of lessons._ McGonagall must just hate me. Yep. That's it. It doesn't help that I'm terrible at transfiguration and haven't written more than three lines of the 1000 word essay in over two hours.

So pretty successful if you ask me.

Whoever invented transfiguration can go and die.

If Emmeline were here she'd help me. She's acing every class. But, no Emma, no Marls and Hest, no dorm room, just me. And my stupid brain.

Maybe if I bash my head hard enough against the wall I'd pass out and get out of doing the homework...

* * *

10:15.

Is time going slower just to piss me off?

Probably.

But, I am now, a proud writer of nine lines of my transfiguration essay. Hah. Just another... 876 words left.

Progress.

10:16.

What even is life? Who said that I should be this red headed witch sitting here floundering to find words to add to my essay. Why am I not a goldfish? Why did I hit the jackpot and find myself a human? I mean, I could have been a cow...? Or a whale. Or... A horse or deer or something, but nope. Someone decided that I was supposed to be a human.

Or maybe they didn't. Maybe it's all just chance. That's more possible, but seriously.

What am I even doing?

Contemplating life's biggest questions?

I have my own problems to stress about!

Speaking of problems, where's Potter got to? Probably some girl's bed. In all honesty I'm kind of glad he's not here. I don't particularly want to speak to him. He aggravates me. For no particular reason as well, which makes me the bitch in this whole thing, which is completely unfair because I know Potter and he's in the wrong. I'm telling you.

At least he's not here badgering me to talk to him again.

... I wonder what he wanted to talk to me about last time... Yes it was probably a set up for a horrible joke, but I still kind of want to know what is... Maybe I can get him and his stupid mates in trouble by telling on them. ... Not Remus though... I like Remus. I doubt he'd be in on anything to do with making a fool out of me anyway. He wouldn't do that.

But maybe if I'd stuck around with Potter for long enough I could have found out what this elaborate plan is, and got them in bother because of it.

Hm... Too late now, Lily.

10:17

A minute? Seriously? Merlin, Why are you doing this to me?! Did I do something wrong! At least help me with my transfiguration... I'm obviously helpless at the frankly stupid subject anyway. But McGonagall will skin me if I don't have this assignment in on time...

Oh please! Just someone, _anyone save me!_

I throw myself back on the sofa and stretch my arms and back, trying to loosen some of the stiffness that has settled in whist I have been here, hunched over the table trying - and failing - to get some work done.

A loud sigh escapes my lips as I bend backwards and stretch my arms above my head. Mm it's good. My back clicks and I almost shudder. I'm tired-

"Alright there, Evans?"

I freeze.

I cannot deal with you right now, Potter. Leave me be. Unless you want to do my essay for me, then by all means...

Also, is he incapable of saying a string of words to me that dont include 'alright' and 'Evans'. He could at least be a little more creative. And why does he even always have to greet me? Can't he just ignore me? I can ignore him...? Why isn't he teasing me as a greeting? That's all he would ever do up until sixth year, greet me by calling out "Ginger!" Or "prude" or something, just so I would turn on him and tell back. I mean, at least when he would insult me I knew what he was doing, now that he's being bloody nice, I have no idea what's going on.

I absent-mindedly return to a normal sitting position and turn my head a fraction in his direction and nod.

I see, out of the corner of my eye, his hand raise and swipe through his hair. I clench my jaw and shuffle down the settee, away from him.

If he tries to talk to me again, he must be an absolute-

"Transfiguration essay, huh?" He says and takes a seat next to me; reflexively I lean away from him.

"Yeah. Just finished actually." I blatantly lie through my teeth in order to get out of the boys presence. Why is he here anyway? Shouldn't he be with his mates? Or shagging some mindless slut senseless? And he's here. With me.

I begin gathering up my things and ignore Potters raised eyebrow at me, he can see right through me. "You've finished?" He inquires.

I pause. "Yes." His hazel eyes snap up to mine, his hair bouncing slightly at the whip his head does. His eyes are narrowed, he can see right through me. Also my nearly blank piece of parchment is still sitting on the desk in front of me. "So I'll be heading up to bed-"

"Can I see it?" He asks, feigning innocence. It doesn't work, he smirks at me after a few seconds.

I glance to my parchment and sneakily reach a hand out and pull it behind my back. Stay civil, Lily, you're head girl, you don't want to start a ruckus because you've lost your temper with the head boy. "Er, no."

He raises a brow. "Why?" Why are you still here?

"Because..." Er... Think fast Evans... I could just turn and run, always the confrontational type, me. "That's cheating. You'd copy me."

He laughs. "Evans, no offence, but I really don't need to copy off of you in transfiguration."

I scowl at him. The cocky little bugger.

I huff and turn my noise up at him. Why am I even still talking to him?! Plan 'ignore the git face' isn't as easy as I thought.

"Look." I say and stand up. I pull my backpack over my shoulder, now full of my stuff, "do you need something?"

His eyes widen and he frowns. "No..?"

"Then, please excuse me." I chime with a forced smile as I stand; I turn on my heel and strut off. I can almost feel his hand sweeping through his hair.

"Lily, what is your problem?"

I whirl around. What did he just say? For one thing, stop with the _Lily _thing and secondly, what _isn't _my problem? What is _your _problem? "What do you mean, Potter?" Oh god, I can practically feel my composure slipping.

He sighs, frowns and takes a step towards me. "Why can't I talk to you? Like I did at Kings Cross?"

I groan. "Like you gave me the choice back then."

"You could have run away. Stayed silent!" His voice is rising, obviously he's getting irritated. But what he says is so true is almost hurts. I've thought those things through over and over again since the incident. "What did I do? I haven't done a thing this year! But still you refuse to even let me speak!"

I grit my teeth. "It's not just this year, Potter."

"What did I do last year then?!" His voice is loud enough I wouldn't be surprised if Yvette, the little girl from the portrait could hear him. Why is he getting to upset? It's not as if this is all new information. I've made my feelings towards him quite clear, why can't he accept that? What's this new drive in him this year that makes him so angry that I don't speak to him?

He doesn't give me time to answer before he goes on. "For the whole of last year I left you alone because you told me to! Remember that day? I let you be. Ignored you. But I'm sick of it! Why can't you see I'm not the same as-"

"Leave me alone, Potter!" The words slip out of my mouth as a half scream, I run backwards up the stairs, willing myself to not look into his face after saying the words, afraid of what I will find there.

What was he even _saying? _'I'm sick of it', 'Remember that day?', 'Not the same as...'. I don't get it! And I'm confused and I don't like it! Why does he have to do this?

God I'm a coward. Running away. I should have stayed to find out what he was saying... But the more I think about the more I doubt everything. It could have been the start of a prank, and I'd gotten out of there just in time. I don't know. But whatever it was, I can't go back down.

It isn't until I'm safely in my room that I un-grit my teeth. Why must he be so arrogant? And cocky and stupid and patronising and... Ugh! He makes me just want to kick something! Preferably his balls.

Is this abnormal? Getting so ticked off at him over every little thing he does? He just affects me. I can't help but seethe whenever I'm around him. I don't know what made me see past this at Kings Cross when I talked to him like a normal person because now all I see when I look at Potter is all the bad things he's done to me. And fair enough, nothing too terrible has happened this year at his fault, but I'm sure something is approaching and I'm not going to sit and wait for it.

"Just be calm." I breathe to myself. "Be civil. Be polite." I raise a hand to my forehead and rub at it in frustration. "Ignore him as much as you can. Don't let him get to you. Don't lose it."

I throw myself down onto my bed, my hands over my face.

Great. Now I'm talking to myself.

But I'm going to listen to my own advice. I may burn on the inside but I won't give Potter the satisfaction of getting under my skin.

A screech echoes through my room and I turn on my heel and see Archimedes perched on the windowsill to the window I don't remember leaving open. I smile half-heartedly and wander over to the little owl before tickling his neck affectionately. He has a note in his beak. My first thought goes to my mum, she's the only one the sends me letters these days. Her and dad, that is. But this isn't a letter is a simple scrap of parchment.

"Whatcha got there, fella?" I coo before taking the note from the owl's beak. I turn it around in my hands and unfold it.

Immediately I recognise the scrawl that occupies the centre of the parchment.

'_**I hate you, you lying scumbag.**_'

I almost laugh at Marley's little note and place it on my bedside table before rushing to tear off some parchment and scribble something back.

'_Aw, what a shame._'

I hand my owl a treat and then my note before he grunts slightly and flies off.

I'd actually forgotten that I was supposed to go up to my old dorm, once everything with Potter started. Granted, I wasn't going to go anyway, but it's not like me to forget these sorts of things.

It's only another minute or so before my reply arrives.

'_**You are no longer welcome in the dormitory and you can't sit with us at meals.**_'

'_Dang it, now I'll have to actually eat in peace and quiet!_'

'_**Lily! You promised us. Hest is literally crying right now.'**_

_'I got sidetracked. I'll tell you later. Tell Hest that she's being a pansy, though I doubt she's actually crying.'_

_**'No. You're coming up right now. Even if this scrawny little owl of yours has to drag you over.'**_

_**'**__Nah, I'm cool here, thanks'_

_**'Lilyyyyy!'**_

_**'**__I thought I wasn't allowed in the dormitory anymore?'_

_**'Don't make me come over there and tit slap you so hard it concaves.'**_

_**'**__Well seen as it's like 7:1 to me in our little war, I'd like to see you try. And you don't know the password.'_

_**'I curse your children with your ginger hair and specky glasses, Lily Evans.'**_

_'Oi! There is nothing wrong with gingers! We're an endangered species. AND IM NOT GINGER.'_

_**'Oh please, Evans.'**_

I glare through my window, but somehow can't keep the smirk off my lips. I don't bother replying and walk away, further into my room, leaving the window open for Archimedes to do as he so pleases.

I miss my mates. No matter how stupid and idiotic they are, they'd help me through this.

I check the time, its 10:45 and I'm absolutely shattered. Emotionally wasted. Maybe I should just sleep now. Maybe if I go to sleep my mind will stop its incessant worrying, on and on, like hounds running around my head. Maybe my doubts will cease, just for a little while.

And though I would very much like for my mind to rest for while, to forget about Potter to be specific, I want badly to find everything out. I want to know what's going. Maybe I'm just nosey, but something inside me wants desperately to understand Potter and what he's doing.

But until I discover a way to do so, I guess sleep is the other alternative.

* * *

Another day of classes passes by, not much better than yesterday. But hey, when you're doing something for six hours straight every day for over half the year, even if said thing is as god damn brilliant as magic, it has to get tiresome. It's the way the brain works.

Though Potter did almost get stampeded to death in Care Of Magical Creatures for trying to approach a unicorn herd we found in the forest.

He's probably the least pure person in the school, just behind Black.

So yeah... That was a highlight.

I talked to Benji Fenwick today in Runes for the first time since last year. He's terrible at the subject, bless him, but he kept me laughing the entire hour. Apparently over the summer he'd broken up with his girlfriend because she had been cheating, but he seemed fine with it all and laughed freely the whole time we talked about it.

Also, I have to go to Dumbledore's meeting tonight. And as much as I'd love to sit in a room with an annoying cocky shit and an elderly wizard, I can't help but just huff whenever I realise that that's exactly where I'll be spending my evening.

"Oh come off it Lils, it'll be fun." Hest says, through a mouthful of potato.

"Fun." I repeat dryly.

"And plus, afterwards you can tell us all about Potter and why you can't seem to untie the knot in your panties." Marly adds, looking at me pointedly. I still hadn't told them about my constant thoughts of Potter and how his irritating tendencies are getting worse.

"I'll have you know, my panties are considerably _unknotted_." I shove a bread roll in my mouth.

"Attractive." Comments Hest on my, probably incredibly flattering, full mouth.

I nod at her. Like I give a-

"You have to tell us Lily." Marley whines.

"I will, I will!" I say honestly, because I do intend on telling the pair of them. Even though they'll laugh and be stupid, they can help. And even though Marley is completely biased to Potter since they're friends, they're the best I've got.

"Yes." Hestia says seriously. "You will."

Thinking back, Potter has kind of avoided me today, no attempts at conversation, no 'accidental' run-ins in the corridors; I didn't even catch him looking at me. It's kind of unnerving to be honest. Which is weird, because I don't know why I feel so unnerved and weird, but I do. And I can't help it. And, I was the one that told him to just leave me alone. Maybe, for once, he's listened to me.

Why the hell do I feel so weird about this! For Merlins sake!

"After the meeting yeah?"

"Yeah." I mumble.

"Swear?"

I look up and find myself grinning at the two sitting across from me at the Gryffindor table. "Swear." I confirm and we laugh.

"No backing out like yesterday and that time you got felt up and didn't tell us until two nights after." Marley scowls at me and I almost reach across to the table to flick her in that perfect blond little head of hers.

"I promise not to back out." I laugh, shaking my head. "And, that was in like fourth year, get over it."

Hestia chuckles and elbows Marley before the three of us burst with laughter and end up spending the rest of the meal trying to kick each other under the table.

Oh dear, sweet Merlin. These girls will be the death of me.

It isn't long before the meal is drawing to a close and people start to exit the great hall in packs. Marley, Hest and I resolve its time for me to go and see Dumbledore.

"Ok, so just come straight up to us afterwards." Marls says, getting up.

"We'll be waiting for you." Hestia adds. "Remember that." She gives me a pointed look.

I laugh and look around. I wonder whether Potter has left the great hall yet. Maybe he's already with Dumbledore. Maybe I'm late!? What if-

"Oh no." I breathe.

"What?" My friends ask that the same time.

"I forgot to tell Potter."

I instantly want to hit myself for being so self involved as to forget a simple request from Dumbledore. What a great head girl I'm turning out to be.

"Shit, Lily!" Marls says.

"We should probably find him." Hest agrees.

Oh god.

"Okay... Um..." I flounder for words for a second. "Er... I'll go check the heads quarters. You guys look around main Gryffindor tower." I'm such a prat.

Seriously? I forgot to tell him? I had plenty of opportunities, yesterday, Sunday, today even! I'd just completely forgot, what with everything that had happened. It's not like me, and Potters going to think that I did it one purpose, so he'd get into trouble, that's the sort of thing he'd do to me... I mean I'm not that cruel, but I'm such a bad person! Now we're both going to be late... And what if I can't find him? What if he's with a girl? Or out breaking rules with his mates? It could take days to search the castle... I'd have to go and explain to Dumbledore what had happened and then he'd probably take away Head girl and-

"Well go then!" I jump at Marley's words and instantly spring up, hitting my knee on the table in the process. Hard. "Shit!" I gasp, and clutch my knee that feels like I've just broken into a million pieces of fiery death Satans, before limp/running out of the great hall. What a sight I must be. I can almost hear Marls and Hest laughing.

I get all the way up to the common room before I have to stop and lean against the portrait frame to stretch my leg out.

"Ow..." I breathe, pulling my leg up into my stomach.

I'm such a clumsy little bastard. I could trip and break my spine on nothing. I'm clumsy and uncoordinated and too hasty. All in all, not the greatest personality traits to have if you don't want to end up in the hospital wing everyday because of multiple injuries.

Maybe my knee cap had fallen off or something...

Its then that Yvettes portrait swings open. I'm about to wonder why because I hadn't so much as breathed the password amongst my string of curses, but then a familiar mop of black hair emerges from the door.

And, honestly - no I'm not happy about my reaction to seeing the boy - I almost sigh with relief at the sight of James Potter and throw myself at him. At least now I've found him, I can get all this over with and it didn't take me running about the castle just to run into him.

He doesn't see me, wedged up against the wall, rubbing my knee awkwardly and just turns and walks in the other direction. Oh great, I have to move again. How I love the moving.

"Potter!" I call and push off the wall before starting to make my unsteady way towards him.

At the sound of my voice he whips around, his head faster than the rest of his body in a rather comical way. "Evans?" He says, his eyebrows raised, almost hidden beneath his hair.

"Potter," I huff before stopping about a meter from him. "I've forgot," I pause. "I forgot to tell you that Dumbledore wants to see us, in his office, like, right now."

He smirks. "I know, he told me you'd forget to let me know so he told me himself."

"He told you?" I repeat.

"Yep, I guess he was right, huh?" I scowl at him.

"Shut up Potter. I just had a panic attack and ran around the whole school to find you." I huff and cross my arms. I would walk away but he could easily catch up what with my dodgy leg.

I hadn't even hit it that hard for Christ sake! I just have the worst pain resilience ever.

"The whole school?" He says, sarcastically, seeing right through me. "Maybe if you told me in the first place you wouldn't have had to."

I grit my teeth. Why does he have to be so patronising! I just ran up a million flights of stairs to find him! I was being nice, I could have left him! Well... Not really cause then Dumbledore would have known I forgot to tell him... But he doesn't have to be a git about it. "Maybe if you told me you knew I wouldn't have had to either!"

He laughs. That prat. "Hey, it was your job to tell me in the first-"

"Whatever! Let's just go, yeah? Get it over with."

He shrugs and smirks before sweeping his hand through his locks, resulting in making them stick out even more than normal. "Sure."

I nod, and look away from the boy in front of me. I take a foot off the floor and begin to walk towards the direction of the staircase, trying to hide my limp. The last thing I want is Potter laughing at me for being such a klutz.

I hear him start to follow behind by the soft thuds of him shoes and grit my teeth as I walk onwards, ignoring the stabbing sensation in my leg.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ok. It's burning now.

Ow.

Yep, burning.

I should probably have sat down before running out here to catch Potter. All the rushing cant have been good for my stupid leg. Its most likely just made it worse ... maybe i'll have to go to Pomfrey... Maybe it'll have to get amputated... I'll be known as left leg Lily! Eh... Could be worse. I guess the alliteration is pretty-

"Evans, are you limping?"

I startle at the proximity of his voice, right next to me, so close I can feel the heat from his words in my ear. "Jesus Potter!" I gasp and jump to the right, away from the taller boy.

Unfortunately I land rather unpleasantly on my injured leg, sending shocks up to my knee which starts to ache even more at the jolt. A muffled yelp escapes my lips and I stop to bend down and rub my leg.

Ugh great. So he caught me out. Go on, have a good laugh Potter! Push me over, I'm sure that'd be very funny. Watch out! Ginger overboard!

"Why are you limping?" I look up at the sound of his velvety voice and instantly jump back again, away from the face that was less than a few inches from mine.

"Merlin, Potter! Will you stop that?!"

He straightens up and raises a hand to his hair. I swear to god if he does that one more time I will come and chop that hand of his off in his sleep.

"Sorry." He chuckles.

I huff and turn to start walking again. Great. We're late. And I'm still limping. More so than before even. Thanks Potter.

"Evans?"

I sigh and turn my head a fraction towards him until my eyes meet his. "Yes?"

"You never answered my question." He says simply, shrugging.

"What? Why am I limping?" I raise my eyebrows. Why the hell does he care? He can laugh all he wants; it's not a hilarious story. Ugh why can't we just walk in uncomfortable silence? Uncomfortable silence is the best kind of silence.

He just nods. I sigh slightly and turn my head back to facing forward. "I hit it."

"You, what?" He asks, I can hear humour in his tone. He doesn't care. Why ask me, Potter? I already told you to leave me alone? Why can't you understand that?

"Hit it." I repeat. "On a table." Why am I even telling him? He doesn't need to know. It's probably my word filter playing up again. I should get that filter sorted; get Pomfrey to look at it or something.

"Er... Why?" He asks, I chuckles under his breath and I almost shove him against the wall.

_I'm in pain Potter!_

"Well I didn't mean to, did I!" I exclaim, louder than necessary and cross my arms over my chest. "Why do you even care?"

His chuckles fade out and I can feel his eyes on my face. "Same reason I didn't let you fall back in Kings Cross." He says simply.

I shudder. Chills run down my spine. This isn't a conversation I want to be having, especially with this boy. I haven't even talked about it with Hest and Marls, but the boy who is the reason for all my doubts and confusion? The very thought of it makes me want to slam my head against the wall because of the many unanswered questions that pop into my mind. Why can't he just leave it? Pull a veil over the mind boggling event?

I resolve on not answering.

Simples.

We walk in silence for a while and I actually start to think that the rest of the walk to the headmaster's office may not be so painful that I want to rip my hair out, but of course, this is Potter we're talking about.

"You're ok though right?"

He's so patronising!

"Yes, Potter, I'm fine." I snap.

He flinches.

... Good.

"Well you're still limping..." He murmurs.

I scowl at the boy still walking next to me. "Oh, thanks Potter, I hadn't actually noticed! Thank god for your observational skills!" Good Godric how long is this walk!?

He pauses for a second, frowning. "... Do you want me to fix it?"

Um. What?

Excuse me, but did Potter just offer to help me?

Instantly warning lights flash up in my head and imaginary sirens blast in my ears. Don't let him get near you, is my very first thought as I subtly move further from him. IT'S A TRAP. IT'S A TRAP! Was the next, again another step away.

I didn't realise that I had stopped walking until Potter is in front of me.

This is not good. Not good at all.

Look around for the rest if the marauders... Sirius...? That suit of armour looks distinctly Peter shaped... The three of them could be crouched around that corner with a camera and glitter for all I know, getting ready for the signal to jump.

"Er... Lily?"

Nope.

Nope nope nope NOPE NOPE.

I'll take the broken knee cap please.

"We're late." I say sharply.

"Dumbledore won't mind." The boy takes a step towards me, which I equal with an unsteady step back.

"Er... No, it's fine. I can, um, I can-"

"Evans, don't be an idiot." He laughs and begins to take out his wand.

Ok... If I run away now do you think I'd make it far enough out of hex/glitter range? Even on my weakling of a leg? I've got a fair chance, but if Black and the rest of the Marauders are hiding somewhere, they could be anywhere.

"Potter, stop, I'm fine-"

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you."

He's kneeling in front of me, wand pointed at me knee. I had been flinching, rigid still until he caught my gaze after his sincere words. I peak at him. Maybe I could knee him in the face but... Maybe this isn't a big old set up? Maybe he just wants to get to Dumbledore's office without having to walk at the pace of a girl with a bodged up leg.

Perhaps.

But I don't trust him.

His hazel eyes shine up into my green ones and I open both eyes and unclench my jaw. I should just let him get on with it. It's not like he'd try to pull anything before a meeting with Dumbledore. He may be stupid, but he's not _that _stupid.

My head bobs in an uncertain nod and I stand uncomfortably still as Potters eyes flash with something and he smirks up at me.

"You know, it wouldn't be too hard to kick you in the balls right now, Potter."

FILTER. FILTER!

He laughs. Oh god. "I'll keep that in mind."

All of a sudden he breaks his eye contact with me and looks down at me knee. Well... This isn't awkward at all. _Potter, eyes on the knee please. My crotch is not the injured area. You may be eye level with it, but I would appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the knee. Thank you. I'm not afraid to hit you._

He clears his throat. Oh Merlin, get it on with will you! Why is this taking so long! I why can't I just be shot of him?

"Kn-"

"Wait!" I almost squeal the word as I bend over to place a restraining hand on Potters to stop him performing the spell that was about to leave his lips.

He looks up at me, a puzzled look on his grinning face, only centimetres from mine. Instantly, I pull back and stand up again.

Too close.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I ask, shakily.

His grin broadens. "Are you doubting me?"

I glare and roll my eyes. "Yes. Obviously. Now answer the question!"

He chuckles and nods. "Yes, I know what I'm doing."

"Really?"

"Seriously, Evans?"

"I don't want my leg turned into a broomstick or something!"

"A broomstick?" He cocks an eye at me in a way that clearly says, _I'd ride that broomstick any day. _I suddenly get the urge to cringe at the thought

I frown. "Yes. A broomstick."

He laughs again and looks me square in the eye before saying. "You're fine, I know what I'm doing. I know my healing spells, I get a lot of practise with them, being a marauder and all." He laughs under his breath.

I suck in a breath. "Ok. Good. But, if something happens, I have been thinking about sneaking into your dorm at night and chopping your privates off, this would give me an excuse."

He laughs loudly and waggled his brows at me. "Are you saying that you have been thinking about my privates, Evans?"

I almost slap him round the head.

"Just do the bloody spell, Potter."

He throws his head back and booms with laughter because of my dodging of his horrific question. And he continues to grin like a loon whilst performing the spell.

Wow this is a bad idea. Letting Potter point a wand at me. I'm honestly expecting to stand up and find that my legs gone altogether, I'll have to hop around on one foot whilst he falls about laughing at me. Left leg Lily.

But, from the look of his good natured, grinning face, something about me trusts him not to turn this into something terrible. I don't know what it is... But there's something there. ... Or maybe it's the other way around. He doesn't have that god awful cocky smirk plastered to his lips. His eyebrows aren't raised and his eyes lack that particular glint they get whenever I have seen him perform a prank.

Not that I've been noticing any of that stuff when it _is_ present on his face.

But that doesn't stop me bracing myself for something. Anything. When Potter is involved, who knows what could happen. This boy is so unpredictable that even his friends get annoyed at him for it. Sometimes he doesn't show up for class, on a whim, and sometimes he's at the lesson before anyone else has even started going there. Sometimes he can be a right dick, to everyone. (Well most of the time.) But other times he can be nice. And it makes you confused. It makes you contemplate his actions again and again because you just don't understand why a git like him would stop your trolley.

My fists and jaw clench as I hear him mutter the spell under his breath, my eyes squeeze shut and I'm ready for anything he decides to throw on me.

But all I feel is a warm sensation in my knee. Hot. Like fire, but not burning. Like the beams of the summer sun concentrated onto the one part of my leg. It's not altogether pleasant, but not anything more than uncomfortable. And the pain is stopping too! The dull ache has evaporated with the hot spell. My knee feels good as new.

Why does Potter have to be so good?

I unclench my fists and open an eye. He's looking up at me, still smiling, but not spitefully. He looks happy, like he's proud of himself but not in a cocky bastard kind of way like most of the time.

I flit my gaze around the room, searching for teenage boys and glitter. Alas, nothing. An empty corridor, aside from a few innocent students, minding their own lives and paying no attention to me and Potter.

My gaze returns to the boy as he stands from his crouch in front of me. He's smiling. In a completely un-Potterish way. And I don't like it. He has a glint in his eyes, but not his mischievous shine, he looks like he did only a couple days ago at Kings Cross. He looks... Friendly. With that little touch of concern... I just don't get it.

I then realise that I had been holding a breath in my throat.

Breathe, Lily, Breathe.

I suck in some oxygen and shakily take a step away from Potters unusual gaze and friendly grin.

Ah. So, yes, he does know how to do a healing charm. I didn't know if he'd actually pull through with the magic, but, honestly, my leg feels perfectly fine. I can lean on it, stamp my foot, skip, jump and dance, its fine.

Potter straightens up, standing from his low position. He's taller than me. He must have at least 5 or 6 inches on me, he looks down at me, his glasses slipping down his face in the process. I have to look up to see him properly. His face. Not that I want to or anything. Just an observation.

He's also still smiling. And, it's a miracle; the smile still isn't cocky or arrogant in the slightest. It's weird. It doesn't feel right to me. Not in a bad way of course, his horrible smirk makes me want to hit him, it just... It feels weird. Different.

I take another couple steps back and push my red hair behind one ear. "Er... Thanks." I nod. "I guess."

"See, nothing to worry about." Potter laughs and looks around, making a point that he wasn't going to do anything. Not that I trust the little blighter.

"Yeah. Whatever."

"So you're all good yeah?" He asks.

I apply more pressure to the leg that was once aching, nothing. "Yeah."

"Right, then..." He waves his arms forward, as if motioning me to walk on. "Shall we?"

I nod, not bothering to use my voice. I walk onwards, and he follows, a step behind keeping pace with my swift strides. We are indeed late. I for one don't want to make such a horrible impression as head girl to the headmaster for the first time. Potter may not give a damn, but I do.

It's not long before we make it to the ugly stone gargoyle that guards the professor's space. I have only ever been to the headmaster's office once in my entire seven years at Hogwarts. Even then, it was only in fifth year when I had been involved in a mishap between the marauders and certain group of Slytherins. It had been pay back for what the Slytherins did to me actually I think, but I was in too much of a state to register anything that happened back then anyway.

The tall boy beside me however, has been to visit the Dumbledore more times than anyone else in the school, alongside his mates. They're in there so often I wouldn't be surprised if they had their own named chairs or a portrait on the wall.

I know that you need a password to get into the office, but I don't know it. I look expectantly up at Potter and he steps forward.

"Rhubarb and Custard"

His voice rings clearly along the corridor and the gargoyle instantly comes to life. It seems to sneer at Potter, its lips curling up at him unpleasantly.

I don't want to know.

It's not long before the gargoyle has moved aside and we have climbed the stairs and we find ourselves standing outside the large, main doors.

I lift a hand, and knock.

_**Review me?**_


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